


Torches

by DarkAlpha67



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Teen Wolf (TV), The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Angst and Feels, Attempt at Humor, BAMF Lydia Martin, BAMF Stiles, Because Author Hates Spoilers, Big Brother Derek, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Cora is Derek's little sister, Denial is something the Athena children share, Derek Hale Feels, Developing Crushes, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationships, Established Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Feels, Friendship/Love, Gen, Godly parents not tagged, Good-byes, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hellhounds, Kinda?, Little Sister Cora, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Married Solangelo, Mention of the Seven from Heroes of Olympus, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character Derek Hale, Out of Character Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek Hale, Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Persephone (Percy Jackson) - Freeform, Post-The Heroes of Olympus, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Slash, Quests, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Percy Jackson Universe, Underworld (Percy Jackson), and all that it entails, because why not?, confused!Derek, hand holding, heartbreaks, mention of child neglect, only mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22241566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Derek Hale lived a normal life. He was raised by a single father who loved him and cared for him. He had a little sister that he loved and he would do everything to keep safe.Oh, and did he mention he saw monsters every now and then?*Derek Hale's life is about to be turned upside down when his sister gets kidnapped by winged creatures and three people show up, claiming to know a safe haven for him. A place called Camp Half Blood.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 18
Kudos: 111





	1. My Name Is Derek Hale and... Well...

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So, this is a new fic that I have wanted to write for a while. I am talking years here, but I didn't have a solid plot for the idea but recently, after getting into the Percy Jackson fandom and universe, I was inspired. 
> 
> This fic is heavily based on the Percy Jackson books. It can be considered a x-over of sorts. Some information of the PJ world has been changed to fit the story, but I do borrow from the books a lot. 
> 
> This work is unbeta-ed, so apologies for any mistakes. But I hope you like it.
> 
> Spread Love and Not Hate! <3

Derek’s life was fairly normal.

He had a middle class upbringing, lived in New York most of his life in a small apartment. He never knew his mother and was raised by his dad, Lincoln, a chemistry teacher. Derek didn’t think he lived a very exciting life.

Unless, of course, you count the fact that sometimes he saw monsters. Now, these monsters weren’t evil, per say. Some looked normal, some had three eyes, some had claws, some saw him and waved, and one even tried to suffocate him that one time.

Normal children things.

He always felt average. Did good in school, had decent grades despite his ADHD and dyslexia. He did sports to “balance it out”. And if for some reason he was caught sleeping, he’d wish real hard the teacher would overlook him, because he was bone tired because of his insomnia, and when the bell rang, signally the end of a period, Derek would get up, pack his bags and bid farewell to a happy teacher who’d tell him he did “good today in class”.

Derek never questioned it because you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

The only time things went a little sideways, was when, roughly at age 8, Dad came home one day with a little girl who was around 4, telling him she was his sister and she’d be staying with them for the time being.

Derek didn’t know what to do, but he knew how lost she must have been feeling, so he welcomed her without hesitation. When bedtime came, she thanked him for being so nice to her.

“No problem. Tomorrow, if you want we can go the park and play a bit.” Derek had said.

Her brown eyes lit up and she had grinned. “Yes! Please!” With a small bounce in her step, she skipped over and hugged him, pressing the side of her face into his chest. “G’night, Derek.”

A spark of protectiveness washed over him when he wrapped his arms around her tiny form. “Night, Cora.”

*

You could say, if you wanted to be logical, that that should have been the first indicator that his life wasn’t normal. But Derek loved delusion, so the next day, he took his new sister to the park. When he saw those monsters around, he’d take her hand and walked her home, pretending that they don’t exist.

His protectiveness over her grew and strengthened. As he got older and realized how bad people could be, he found strangers things happening around him.

When Billy had shoved him against the locker and made fun of him for not having a mom, Derek had fought back. He had been so angry, wishing the guy would just choke on his own tongue and then suddenly the hands shoving him stopped. When he opened his eyes, Billy was blue, coughing as he gripped his throat.

Derek found himself frozen with shock.

The others who had been watching, doing nothing or egging it on, suddenly screamed and scattered. Scared out of his mind, he wished Billy would breathe so the screaming and the fear could stop, and then, all of the sudden, Billy inhaled gulps of air, coughing wetly as he collapsed on the floor beside Derek.

Derek never spoke of it.

But he was careful on wishing harm on others.

*

He was a weird kid. He knew that but, when he turned 16, his life shattered.

He had been asleep, dreaming of warmth and an amber fire. He had been so happy and a peace, surrounded and protected by the gentle heat that when a high-pitched scream cut through the air, his insides turned ice cold, ripping him out of the calming illusion.

In a flash, Derek was out of his bed. He raced down the hall, distantly hearing his dad’s door opening. He followed the scream, the lights in the hallways flickering and exploding whenever he passed it.

Derek kicked opened the door, and terror struck him as he saw the ugly, winged creatures hiss and spit at him, its wings buffing the air, acidic sourness coming off it.

“Derek, help!”

Spurred on by her scream, he ran over to her, eyes fixed on her struggles form, but one of those things, those bat-like monstrous things, slammed into him, its claws curling around his shoulders shoving him away and to the ground.

“No! Derek!”

“CORA!”

Her bedroom window was shattered and those things, with Cora wrapped in its claws, took off. Derek struggle to get free, to save her, to bring her back, but the thing on top of him hissed in his face, its breath sour and sulfuric.

“Follow. And die.” It said, though its lips didn’t move. It moved one of his claws, tracing down his right eye. Derek squeezed its eyes shut, feeling the claw miss his eyeball but the searing pain carried on, going down to his cheek bone.

“Derek!” He heard his dad.

The pain stopped, the weight lifted and when he opened his eyes again, he was alone in the room, silence greeting him. His dad came stumbling in, falling to his knees, touching him, calling his name.

But his attention was fixed on the ripped bed sheets, the broken window, the pain in his eye. Soon it all became too much, his lungs were taking in too much air but not enough, his brain was spinning, trying to comprehend what had just happened and he suddenly felt cold.

So cold.

So, so…. Cold.

Darkness closed in on him and Derek welcomed it.


	2. Helpless

Derek came to, his attention fixed on the hands that were touching him, gentle and caressing. The touches left his skin tingling. His body attempted to reach for the touch which promised safety and warmth.

The distant mummer of voices shattered the illusion of peace as it drifted through his ears, the words too soft to discern.

“How can we trust that?”

“Stiles –” A gentle voice spoke.

“No.” They were cut off sharply. “Other than what you have told us, we have nothing to go on. He is 16 years old. If you knew what he was, who he was, then you should have brought him to camp sooner.”

“Stiles.”

_Who are these people?_

“I understand but we haven’t had any trouble.”

_That was dad!_

“And what would you call this?”

The hands on his face stopped touching him. “You guys I think he is waking up.”

With his cover blown, Derek his heavy lids open. A dizzy spell struck him, his head spinning, taking the world around him along for the ride. Groggily, Derek looked around him, forcing his eyes to focus on the familiar surroundings as a means to center his spinning mind. He saw he was in his living room, eyes searching until it found the paint that was still clipped from where Cora had thrown her slimy ball and it got stuck-

Horrific images flashed through his mind.

Derek jerked up. “Cora!”

“Whoa, whoa! Easy!” Hands pressed down on his shoulders and Derek, recalling those claws and how they felt, shoved them off roughly.

Stumbling to his feet, he took in his surroundings.

His dad was there, seated by the dinner table, with a bandage on his forehead, and with him were three strangers.

A goofy looking boy with a crooked jaw was seated on his coffee table, making it clear he was the one touching Derek, and suddenly his stomach flipped uncomfortable, remembering how he’d responded to this stranger’s touch. His kind eyes and floppy hair looked misplaced with his surfer shorts, running shoes and orange shirt that hugged his body.

Derek’s mind absentmindedly reminded him that America has been suffering from prolonged summers, so the outfit made sense.

The other two strangers had similar outfits on.

One of them was a beautiful girl with strawberry blond hair which accentuated her porcelain complexion. Unable to help himself, Derek took her in, noticing the way her red hair was twisted and braided elegantly on both sides, with the two coming together to form a single braid that fell over her shoulder. She had on a high waist jeans, heeled boots and her orange shirt was tucked into her jeans, highlighting her every curve. He blinked when apple, no, hazel, no… Shit, he shook his head, when those kaleidoscope eyes continued to stare him, her rose pink lips curled into a humor smirk.

“Hey, buddy. Mind shifting your eyes there.” Came a harsh voice.

Derek’s attention snapped away from the girl and it was like a cloudy fog had been lifted. He blinked a few times, eyes drifting to the guy who had spoken. Unlike his companions, he looked like a normal kid. He had on jeans that were slightly skinny, grey chucks decorated with foreign patterns but, for some reason Derek understood them.

His left shoe, which was the most visible, read: _In need of the air, lift off._

Derek decided to question his new skill later, because when he looked up, warmth flooded him. He recalled the safety he felt in his dreams because eyes that were achingly similar to the amber fire which crackled and lit his dreams, met his. They were colder and disinterested, sharp and calculating, but the warmth lurking beneath was hard to get rid of. His eyes clashed with his soft and welcoming features, his cupid-bow lips, his mole dotted skin and messy dark hair.

A dark eyebrow cocked. “You find something interesting?”

The girl sighed sharply and rolled her eyes. “Stiles. _Enough_.”

The boy, Stiles, gave him a dirty look before turning to his dad. “He needs to come with us.”

“I understand.” His dad sighed.

The girl gave his dad a comforting smile and the kid on the coffee table started packing away a jar that looked to be filled to the brim with moist soil.

“He’ll be okay, and you can always visit –”

Frustrated, Derek exclaimed, “hey!” All eyes turned to him and Derek glared at them all. “Who the hell are you people?”

His dad sighed, standing up. “Derek. It’s okay, you can trust them.”

Derek looked over at his dad, saw how nervous and scared he was as he drew near. “So? Why am I going with them? Are you coming with? Why are they here? Where- Where’s Cora?”

His dad cupped his cheeks, cutting off his list of questions. “It’ll be okay. They can take you some place safe.”

“I’m not going.” Derek managed out through the hurricane of emotions assaulting him.

“You don’t have much of choice, dude.” The guy called Stiles commented.

Derek glared at him, eyes burning and then suddenly, the girl yelped as the guy’s shirt caught fire.

“Shit!” He ran to the kitchen. “Fuck!”

“Stiles!”

There was hissing sound, an indication of a fire being put out. Thundering footsteps echoed through the house, the guy at the coffee table rushed over to a disheveled Stiles who marched up to Derek, eyes furious. The girl’s hand on his arm halted him inches away from Derek.

Derek watched all of this with wide eyes, chest heaving as panic stole his words.

“You think this is funny!” Stiles fumed. “Try that again and I—“

“I didn’t do anything!” The words exploded out in his defense.

Stiles opened his mouth.

“Stiles!” The girl snapped, ripping him away from Derek who was so, so utterly confused. “He didn’t know! Stop it!”

“Dude, Chiron is never letting you go on these retrieval quests, again!” The guy with the crook jaw had a soothing voice and Stiles exhaled, shoulders slumping.

“Derek, look at me.” Derek did so, numb to the events and the words and, just, everything. “You will be okay. Trust them.” His dad said confidently. Derek opened his mouth but with a gentle shake of the head, his dad quietened him. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

 _Never make a promise you have no intention of keeping_ : A moral his dad had instilled in him at a young age.

Somehow, the next thing he knew, he was in a car. A beat-up blue jeep that made so much noise when Stiles turned it on. Dad was standing outside, looking at Derek through the open window.

“Call me when you can, okay.” His dad smiled at him as if he was going to see Derek tomorrow.

Like everything that had happened was normal. Just another day with the Hale’s.

All Derek could do was nod.

The girl spoke then. “We’ll watch out for him, Mr Hale.”

His dad nodded and with a sad smile, he stepped away from the window. Stiles, the fucking asshole, didn’t so much as honk before he peeled away. Derek turned, watching with teary eyes as dad’s form got smaller and smaller and smaller until he was only a speck in the distance, his white shirt a beacon reminding Derek of his now lost home.

A hand fell on his shoulder. Derek looked over and met a crooked smile. “You’ll see him, again.”

The girl turned and gave him a warm, heart stuttering smile of her own.

Dazed, Derek asked the first question that came to mind. “Who are you guys?”

Crooked Jaw gaped. “Oh my gods, we are the worst. Sorry, dude. I am Scott.” He pressed a hand to his chest when he said this.

The girl grinned. “Lydia.” Then she pointed. “And this bundle of fun is Stiles.”

“Stiles?”

Amber eyes met his in the review mirror. “Yeah, _Stiles_. Don’t wear it out.”

Scott sighed. “Ignore him. He didn’t sleep much last night.”

At a lost, all Derek could do was nod. Then, a moment later, he asked. “Who are you guys, again?”

“Oh, boy.”

*

They arrived at a ‘Camp’ in Long Island what felt like hours later. Derek followed after the three stranger, his feet moving, carrying him one step at a time. They had ditched the car, with Lydia assuring him it would be safe and not stolen. Stiles had taken out Derek’s duffel bag from the trunk, which his dad had packed while he’d been unconscious. He tossed the bag to Derek, not even blinking when Derek fumbled with the suddenly load in shock. He simply turned and headed in an unknown direction, reaffirming Derek’s assessment that he was an asshole. As they journeyed, his eyes took in everything, from the hills to the luscious trees that surrounded this _Camp_ , yet his brain comprehended nothing. It felt like one of those days where he didn’t sleep for three days straight and his mind was too exhausted to even think.

Things only got so much weirder after he walked past the sign that read: _Camp Half-Blood._

There were kids of all ages wondering around, with various weapons in hand. They were fighting and laughing and taunting and joking, all the while swiping with large sword. Some greeted Stiles, some smiled at Lydia and some snickered at Derek.

“Oh! Sorry.” Scott grabbed his arm and stopped him. He produced a wet wipe from somewhere and careless wiped Derek’s face, ignoring Derek’s surprised sputter of meaningless sounds. The once cloud-white cloth came back caked with dirt.

The same dirt that looked like that shit Derek had seen in Scott’s jar.

“What the fuck?” Derek stared at the filthy cloth in disgust. He touched his face, feeling if he still had gunk on him.

“Sorry, I was healing—Huh,” Scott stopped, frowned up at him.

“What?”

“You still have—”

They were cut off by--

“Holy shit!” Derek exclaimed.

More campers turned to look at him, some giggled and snickered like this was normal. That a man that had the lower part of a horse was natural. A centaur, his mind supplied, but Derek really didn’t care about the terminology. All he could do, after his embarrassing cry, was stare up at the big, tall… _Centaur_. From the waist down, he was a beautiful white stallion, and his "human" part was a man that looked to be his dad's age, dressed smartly in a a shirt and tie under a grey sweater, with a tan blazer over it. If Derek looked at him from the waist up, he could easy be mistaken for one of his dad's co-workers.

At his cry, Stiles turned and glared at him. “Show some respect.”

“At ease, Stiles.” The man-horse said. “It’s quite alright. Everyone is entitled to their own reaction.”

Stiles grimaced in clear disagreement but remained silent.

“My name is [Chiron](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Chiron).” The Centaur stepped – trotted? - forward. He bend down and offered his hand and Derek shook it, the feeling of warm skin pressed against his palm, kicking his brain in gear.

“You’re a Centaur.”

“I am, indeed. And your name is?”

“Derek.” He stepped forward, worry and fear gnawing at his stomach. “Are you gonna help me find my sister?”

Lydia and Scott look down at that. A sad expression claimed Chiron’s bearded features. The acidic feeling in his gut grew, corroding his insides, making him feel dizzy and sick and—

An arm wrapped around his waist as he swayed and then he heard multiple gasps. He looked around, confusion joining the already spiralling storm of emotions, only to see some people looking in his direction, but not really at him.

No, they were looking above his…

Derek followed their eyes and saw a glowing symbol rotating above his head. It was of two torches, titled to the side, with its holders crossed at the end, the flames licking upward.

“A son of Hecate.” Chiron said, his voice carrying as if to announce it to everyone else.

Derek’s eyes snapped over to him. “A what?”

Chiron sighed. “I fear we had plans to explain everything before your parent claimed you.”

The words “parent” and “claimed” spun his mind because he knew his dad, he knew his parent, and the only parent who he didn’t know was…

“You mean my mom?” He spoke the words to himself, but loud enough that Chiron heard him.

The Centaur nodded. “Yes. Your mother, the [Greek Goddess Hecate](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Hecate).”

“Congrats.” Stiles said in a bored tone. “Yer ‘a demi-titan, Der-rick.” He said, his voice accentuating the words, and Derek understood the reference instantly.

And had this been any other time, he would have laughed.

But it’s not.

And the joke fell short.

“Stiles.” Lydia sighed.

*

They took him [Cabin 20](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Hecate%27s_Cabin), an overwhelmingly beautiful place. There, he met Lou Ellen, who was more than happy to take him off Scott and Lydia’s hands (Stiles left shortly after he was “claimed”). She greeted him with a warm smile, and Derek instantly noticed that her dark hair and green eyes matched his. She showed him the four main sitting rooms which had two built-in cushioned benches that doubled as beds, which had a storage space underneath for clothes, armor and weapons (You know the essentials).

She took pleasure in showing him the programmed furniture that could be collapsed, moved and reshaped by snapping her fingers.

“You try. Just imagine it and snap.”

Derek looked at three armchairs, at a lost. He inhaled and then, lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. There was a shift in the air, and then when he blinked his eyes open, all three armchairs were stacked on top of each other, perfectly balanced and sturdy.

“Nice!” She grinned at him.

Even with all that craziness that was this day, Derek managed a smile of his own. She continued the tour, seemingly energized by the display of Derek’s abilities (Fuck, he had _abilities_ ). His mind accepted this without a second though and Derek knew, from previous experience, this easy acceptance would come crashing down on him later. Lou Ellen showed him the living areas that could be turned into different places, like a dining room, a gym, or a military command center which she thankfully didn’t demonstrate. She informed him that the cabin, thanks to Annabeth (Whoever that was) and the Athena Cabin, had dozen pre-programmed interior-decorating schemes. She took up a narrow staircase that leaned against the back wall that led up the upper floor, which contained two more twin beds, and extra built-in storage space underneath the stairs.

She took him to the bathrooms which was “state of the art”. Each bathroom had its own large shower.

“This is your room.” She pointed to the bed on the left. “You can design it how you want. The Cabin allows us to be more in tuned with our magic so it shouldn’t be that draining--

“When are we gonna start looking for my sister?” Derek cut her off, turning to meet her dark green eyes.

“Your sister?”

Derek nodded. “My baby sister, Cora. She was taken. Some bat like things came and took her. I passed out and then after I woke up, met Stiles, Scott and Lydia, who brought me here.” He rushed over the events, the memories of the day too fresh, the very thought of it made his eyes burn with unshed tears.

That sad expression that everyone seemed to wear appeared and it made him angry. “Derek, your sister...”

“What?” He frowned.

“Look, I don’t know everything, other than that she was taken by Furies. Those “bat-like” things. Chiron will most likely talk to the gods and find out something and we will try to help, but… Look, I hate saying this, but right now, you need to rest and recover. There is nothing you can do for her.”

_Nothing you can do for her._

Her helpless cry and the plea in her voice as she called his name rang through his mind.

He stumbled back and sat down on a bed. Numb to the core, his eyes began to burn, and Derek was too shocked to wipe them or even attempt to suppress them. His head fell, chin to chest, and his hands lifted to support the weight.

The bed sunk on the side and an arm wrapped around him. “I’m sorry, Derek.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can anyone guess who's godly parents Scott's, Lydia's and Stiles' are?


	3. People Like Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of Chapter:
> 
> People Like Us - Kelly Clarkson

_Caught you at midnight_

_Not my right mind_

_What you're afraid of_

_Is where I just came from_

_An ugly confession_

_I think that I'm broken_

_(Ace of Heart - Zella Day)_

_\---------------------------_

When Derek had calmed down, he gathered enough energy to ask if he could be alone. He waited until Lou Ellen left, her footsteps fading away, before he collapsed back, curling up on the bed that would now be his.

Once alone, he allowed all his pain and anger and fear and confusion to be released in a flood of tears. Derek pressed his face into the pillow to hide from the outside world, muffling his cries.

He cried until his eyes were raw and then he cried some more.

He took in gasps of air, his mind conjuring up a twisted feeling as he imaged the fear Cora must be feeling. She was probably out there waiting for him, calling out to him and he was doing absolutely nothing to help her. With that haunting thought echoing through his head, Derek mentally formulated a messy, irresponsible plan.

Hours later, he stepped out the cabin, eyes cleared and mind focused.

He searched the grounds and found a familiar face. The sight of the puppy eyes and a goofy smile lessened a fraction of the tension within him. He was about to walk over when two people came up to him, blocking his path.

“Hey, you’re the new camper, right?” A girl with wide brown eyes and long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail asked. “I’m Erica Reyes. Daughter of Apollo. Chiron asked me and Boyd to give you a tour, if you’re up for it.”

She grinned widely at him, her eyes thinning sweetly.

Derek looked from her to the tall, bulky man beside her. His dark skin was shining with a film of sweat, making it like he had just come from a hard session at the gym. Derek saw that they too had on that orange shirt that read Camp Half-Blood, with a beaded necklace to match. Except where Erica had a sun charm hanging from hers, the other boy, Boyd, had a hammer. Where her outfit looked like she was going out for a day at the beach, from her orange shit, rolled up, to reveal a peak up her stomach to her short denim shorts and combat boots, Boyd’s jeans was ripped at the knees and his entire orange shit was caked with grease, giving him a mechanic look.

“You’re who?” Was the first thing Derek asked. The moment the words left his mouth, he heard how rude it may have sounded.

Erica, though, took it in stride, her grin softening into a smile. “Right. I’m a daughter of Apollo. You met my brother, Scott, he’d at the Infirmary right now. Boyd here is a son of Hephaestus. You… You know anything about Greek Mythology?”

“I know enough.” From movies and God of War video games, he didn’t add.

Erica spun around, and weaved her arm, gesturing to the campgrounds. “Well, welcome to Camp Half-Blood. Chiron said you’re a son of Hecate. All of us here have a godly parent, hence the name. With that parentage, we get gifts.”

“Like the ability to make people choke on their tongues?” He asked, slightly dazed when he took in the amount of people wondering the grounds, all the people who had a parent that was a Greek fucking God/Goddess.

A pair of brown eyes widened. “You did that?”

He nodded, his heart twisting when he thought about Billy and how much worse it would have been. “I think so. I… I wasn’t really thinking but I just wanted the guy to stop talking and – He did.”

“Damn.” The girl looked a little impressed. She seemed to have sensed his worry, because she turned and hooked her arm through his. “Don’t worry. We’ve all done something like that. It comes with the parentage and all. C’mon, I’ll walk and talk.”

And talk she did. He got a crash course of what had been happening while he had been away living a life of ignorance. Two wars, all fought and won. Erica and Boyd had been there for both. They spoke of life at camp, spoke about year-rounders to let him now it was an option. She showed him the Archery area, the arena where Derek watched a group of teenagers and adults training with swords, _all_ of them fighting a guy.

And he knew that guy.

He stopped, unable to look away as he watched Stiles flip, doing a one handed cart-wheel, before he blocked another strike. He ducked at another strike, a grin on his face as he said something that had a girl who had attacked him scowling murderously.

“Ah, that’s Stiles and, the girl he is fighting is Malia. They’re children of war, so they always train together. Malia is rougher and ruthless, and Stiles prefers that because Chiron doesn’t want us to get too hurt.” Erica was saying, having not noticed Derek’s lack of attention.

Derek watched as the girl, Malia spun and kicked the sword out of Stiles hand. He grabbed her leg and flipped her over him body. Derek winced when she collided with the ground, but Malia only laughed and did a flip, landing on her feet.

Her grin turned flirtatious and Stiles smirked.

“They used to date, if you’re wondering.” Erica added casually, before tugging at his arm, but Derek eyes remained fixed on Stiles.

As if sensing the attention, Stiles looked over Malia’s shoulder and the smile on his face dimmed. Flustered at being caught, Derek looked away and pretending nothing had happened.

Except, Boyd totally noticed because he was smirking at him.

“You said they were children of War?” Derek asked, trying to shake off the blush that seemed intent on making him a red tomato.

“Yup." She turned and move on, and Derek was more than happy to follow after her as she continued to say, "Stiles is a son of Athena and Malia is a daughter of Ares. Aside from his sister, Stiles is like a legend. He was on the few who assisted the Seven--- Sorry, I am getting off topic. Anyway, yeah, this is the Art room.”

Derek looked inside and saw some more campers. Some were painting, he saw Lou Ellen amongst them, but instead of painting, she was making something out of clay.

“You can join her, tomorrow. Because of your abilities, you can easily pick up sculpting.”

“My abilities?”

A deep voice answered. “Your magic or whatever you got from Hecate. It looks like they are all in your mind, so if you want, you could easily re-animate something.”

Derek looked over at Boyd, who seemed so calm like he was telling Derek that if he wanted, he could put water in a cup for easy drinking. Deciding that asking would only increase the level of weird, Derek decided to nod like he totally understood what Boyd was saying.

“This is pavilion. We eat here.”

He was shown the strawberry field. He was told his training would start tomorrow and then, before he knew it, it was the end of the tour and it was time to eat.

By that time, Lou Ellen and Michael, his brother apparently, guided him to his table. There he met, more of his brother’s and sisters, including Ember, his baby brother who was five and loved making people think they are in candy land.

“Ember is the youngest.” Aaron, a boy who was a year older than Derek, with blue tipped hair said to him. Aaron’s eyes had a violet tint to it. It was one of the first things Derek’s noticed. It felt like he was being placed under a calming spell whenever the other boy looked at him, which was a lot because everyone here was so friendly.

Derek nodded, smiling when Ember looked at him with an impish grin.

Aaron’s hand brushed against his arm in a comforting touch. “I heard about your sister. Don’t worry, if any one will find her, it will be—“

“Derek.”

Silence fell over the table, and Derek turned to see Lydia standing behind him, her eyebrow cocked, and her lips curled into that amused smile. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, with strawberry red strands tumbling down, having escaped, but even then, it looked…

“Well, well, if it isn’t the enigma of Cabin 10.” Aaron said, deepening his voice a touch, ripping Derek away from making a completely fool of himself by his continuous staring.

Derek mentally perked at hearing Lydia was from Cabin 10, but any interest he may have had was smothered by the worry that claimed him in that moment.

Lydia looked at him. “Use your magic on me and I will gut you.” She turned to Derek, her murder look fading into one of understanding. “C’mon, Chiron wants to see you.”

The humor that had surrounded the table vanished. Lou Ellen reached out and squeezed his arm. “It’s gonna be okay.”

With no other choice, Derek stood up and followed Lydia. “Is this about my sister?” He asked her the moment they stepped away from the table.

“Yes.”

He was walked out the pavilion. They walked a good distance to another building. Upon entering, Derek saw another tall blond boy standing beside Scott and Stiles as they talked with another man Derek hadn’t met or been told about. They all turned and looked at him wearing various expression that made it impossible to discern if the news was good or bad.

“Derek.” The white stallion Centaur greeted, stepping toward him in gentle strides, his hooves clomping as he does so.

Derek looked up, eyes wide and terrified. “Is Cora okay?”

The other unknown man huffed, looking at him. “She should be.”

“[Dionysus](riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Dionysus).” Chiron said in a warning tone.

Derek look over to the guy who was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, his blood shot blue eyes washing over Derek with clear disinterest.

“Don’t you worry, Darren, she will be okay.”

“It’s Derek.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and Dionysus…

“Wait, are you the wine dude?” Derek blurted out.

Dionysus’s eyes snapped over to him, eyes narrowing.

“Not now.” Chiron cut off the slowly rising tension in the room. Dionysus was too busy glaring at Derek to notice Scott and Stiles exchanging golden coins.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder and Derek allowed Chiron to move him closer to the gathering group. Lydia took her place beside Stiles, who leaned a little closer to her, arms crossed and expression hard.

“We have spoken to some people and they have confirmed that your sister, Cora, is indeed in the Underworld, however we have been warned not to attempt to rescues her-“

“What?!” Derek looked up at Chiron with wide eyes. “What? Do you mean we can’t help her?!”

A sadness glimmered in Chiron’s eyes. “I’m sorry, my boy. But the gods have ordered us to not attempt to bring Cora back. She had a debt that needs paying.”

Derek looked at them all, his heart hammering against his chest as he searched for and waited for someone to speak up. There was a little girl in the underworld, surely someone saw how messed up and wrong that was… but…. No one did speak up.

They all just looked down.

“You’re not gonna help her?” Derek asked with deep burning anger.

“Isaac received a visit from his mother, Demeter, who told us Cora will be safe and will return soon. We are told to wait until such time.” Chiron said.

The blond guy turned to Derek, blue eyes wide and apologetic. A part of Derek wanted to blame him, demand why he opened his mouth in the first place if he wasn’t going to be helpful, but the predominant forced him to bit his tongue.

“And we are just gonna listen to them?”

“It is a curse, I know.” Dionysus piped up. “Isiah has no other choice.”

Derek clenched his jaw. The flame torches that aligned the walls of the room flickered, the yellow-orange color turning into an icy blue tint, darkening the room. Scott and Isaac moved away from Derek, Lydia took a step closer but was stopped by Stiles’ firm hand on her arm.

“I am not leaving my sister down there.” Derek growled out, glaring at them all.

Chiron looked at him, eyes soft and placating. “We understand it is a lot to ask for, but we don’t have any other choice. We have to trust the gods.”

A cold resolve washed over him and the burning rage within his chest faded. Derek looked at them all, gaze hard. The blue aura which engulfed the room faded and the entire room was returned to it warm, halo of yellow-orange light. His hands uncurled from fists he hadn’t know he was forming. His fingers aching as he flexed them.

Derek nodded. “I understand.” He swallowed thickly, biting back the tears, but the cold feeling that had now settled over him never faded.

*

Everyone was sleep, the cabin silent save for the occasion sniffle and snore. Derek grabbed the bag he had packed, the heavy weight manifesting with hardship of the journey he knew laid ahead. He did that whole “wishing real-hard” thing and no one seemed to notice his movements as he silently made his way down the stairs, seeing Aaron passed out on the armchair, his snorts causing the air around him to shift.

He opened the cabin doors and slipped out into the night. The air was cool, and he could tell a change in season was on its way. Given how hot these past few years had been, he was eager the approaching cold weather, but the pain his chest, made it impossible to think of that. When he pictured cold weather, he thought of Cora and how he’d always wanted to build a snow man with her.

“Going somewhere?”

Derek spun around and he glared at the lone figure leaning up against the cabin wall, features cloaked by the shadow casted by the roof. “Try and stop me and I will knock you out.” He threatened.

A scoff answered him. “I’d like to see you try.”

Amber eyes which were darker in the nightlight came into the light as he moved. Derek watched as Stiles bend down to pick up the backpack by his feet, before he pushed off the wall of the Hecate Cabin. He hooked it over his shoulder and made his way over to Derek, his calculating eyes assessing Derek.

“Here.” He said, reaching behind him, pulling out something before offering it to Derek.

Derek looked down, frowning when he saw a bronze dagger in Stiles’ hand. The brunette flipped it, catching the bladed end, offering Derek the hilt.

“We’re gonna need weapons.” Stiles told him.

“We?” Derek repeated, looking up Stiles.

The other boy nodded. “Yes, _we_.”

His amber eyes shifted to something over Derek’s shoulder. Belatedly, Derek turned, following his eyes to see Lydia making her way toward them with no bags, aside for the small pink make-up pouch that was hooked on her belt loop.

“Took you long enough.” Lydia looked at him, when she came closer. “I was beginning to wonder if we were wrong about you.”

“You have it?” Stiles asked.

Lydia nodded, patting her pouch. “Of course, we better go before everyone catches on.”

She turned and Stiles walked passed Derek without another word.

Derek followed them, heart lifting. They snuck out Camp Half-Blood with little trouble. It was only once he left the borders that he realized how unprepared he was, his bag of clothes stupid and useless compared dagger he now possessed. His heart starting hammering in his chest as the magnitude of what he was going to do, what he had to do, and what’s he’d just done slowly set in.

Stiles looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “You gonna chicken out?”

“No!” Derek shot back offended.

“Good.” Stiles turned, brought his fingers to his mouth and released a New York whistle. It was loud and Derek spun around in fear that someone or something had heard. Stiles didn’t seem to care because a moment later he called out, _“"Stêthi 'Ô hárma diabolês!”_

“What are you doing?” Derek hissed.

“Calling for a cab, what’s it look like?”

“What ca…b.” He trailed off as a yellow taxicab appeared out of nowhere, starting out as a form of green smoke rushing through thin air, before it materialized and took shape right before his eyes. Derek shook his head, staring wide eyed as the driver side window was rolled down, emitting eerie green-grey smoke, revealing three women and their smarmy grins.

“Welcome! Three drachma’s for entry fee.”

Lydia stepped forward, hand stretched which she turned over to reveal three of those golden coins Derek has seen Stiles and Scott exchanging to the women.

“Step, right, on, _in_.” They each uttered one word, the final word being spoken in unison. It was ghostly and the sound of their voice erupted chills that trickled down his spine. The back door opened on its own, and Lydia was the first to move, sliding in before turning beckoning Derek in. “Get in.”

He did as he was told, only to be shoved further in by Stiles, who followed on shortly, closing the door and locking them in.

“Take us to Di Angelo residence.” Stiles ordered.

“What?” The one said.

“No hello?” The other added.

“Or please?” The one in front of Lydia finished off.

“Hello and please hurry up.” Stiles snapped.

His stomach was pushed against his spine as the cab took off at an unholy speed. The view outside became a blur. Derek reached out, grabbing hold of anything for purchase, his stomach flipping and flopping from the dizzyingly back and forth motion of the speeding cab. He never got motion sickness, but he finally understood how those felt who did, sympathizing with them on a whole new level.

“Rude.”

“So, rude.”

“No respect! The other one was much kinder.”

“So much.”

Lydia shot Stiles a glare, her burning eyes bypassing Derek completely, which wasn’t that hard given Derek was become one with the seat.

“Are you sure he will help?” Lydia asked, her voice not all affected by the speed and the jerking motion of the cab.

Stiles scowled, swallowing thickly. “Yes. I called, he said he knew someone who could get us what we wanted.”

“Get what?” Derek spoke up then. “And what is _this_?” He exclaimed.

The woman in the middle turned around.

And Derek bit back a scream when was met with two gaping holes where two eyes should be. Her grey-green skin looked ghostly and unnatural, like she was made from the same smoke the cab was made from.

“It’s the Chariot of Damnation, dear boy. Don’t you know about us?”

Derek was seconds away from exclaiming “Fuck no” when Lydia cut him off, halting his words with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Of course, he does. He’s just… awestruck.”

The women up front hummed approvingly and the other nodded in understanding. The thing he was gripping on shifted and Derek tightened his hold, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Don’t close your eyes, you’re only gonna make it worse.” He heard Stiles say beside him and his eyes snapped open and over to the calm boy who was looking at him with a grimace. “Also, loosen your hold on my arm, you’re cutting off my circulation.” Derek looked down with a perplexed frown and his stomach flipped for another reason entirely as he stared down at where his hand was gripping Stiles’ forearm.

As if burned by the touch, Derek ripped his hand away. “Sorry.”

Stiles didn’t seem to have had heard him, or he simply didn’t care because he looked past Derek to Lydia.

“Scott called Will in advance.”

Will?

Lydia nodded, seeming pleased with that. “Okay, good. Nico might be willing to listen if Will is there.”

“Who?” Derek asked just as a force shoved him forward, the reflex reaction to stop his fall, saving him from colliding headfirst into the third woman’s head.

“Ease up on the breaks, Tempest.” She grumbled the driver.

“Don’t you tell me how to drive, Anger. Wasp has the eye.”

Derek looked over, his empty stomach churning when he saw that the third woman did indeed have an eye, that moved around, doing an amazing impression of Mad-Eye Moody.

“Thank you!” Lydia said, reaching into her pouch. Derek watched in wonder as her hand vanished in. He shook his head and when he looked again, he saw that the pouch was now a fanny pack, and Lydia was pulling out a handful of those golden coins.

“Here, this should cover it.” She gave them the coins.

“Why, thank you.”

“Yes, now get out.”

“We have places to be, you know.”

Stiles grumbled in irritation as he opened the door and stepped out. Derek stumbled out, his feet and legs feeling like jello. Lydia slid out and moved to stand beside him. There was gush of air and when Derek turned, he found the street empty.

“This is it.” Lydia exhaled with relief.

Derek turned, looking up to see a modest two-story house. The gate was dark on one side and yellow on the other, with a small chain with a skull shaped lock pad holding it close. At first glance it was clear who ever lived here was either out or asleep. However, as Derek looked around, he saw the house for what it was. The gates surrounded the walls looked well taken care of, the house itself looked comely, but its lifelessness was haunting. The windows were all closed, the curtains darkened by a lack of light from within. The painted gate had vines wrapped around it.

“You sure someone lives here?” Derek asked over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he noticed more oddities.

There was an aura that surrounded the house. It was warm, but uncomfortable. Like a summer day where the air was heated, the sun burned down on you, where your sweat clung to your skin like a second sticky coating.

This summer had been long and brutal these past few years, so he would know.

“Yes, why?” Lydia stepped up, coming to stand beside him.

Derek shook his head, uncertain as he answered. “Nothing, it’s just… It doesn’t look like anyone has been here in a while.”

“Well, di Angelo is busy, so maybe---”

He shook his head firmly, cutting her off. “No, its more than that. I can…” He closed his eyes, sensing the energy that lingered and coursed through the summer aura. He felt it tug on cord within him, insisted, demanding him to look closer.

“Derek, what is it?”

He was about to answer her, when a high screech cut him off. He spun in time to see those things; those demonic creatures that had taken Cora, ambush them. He pushed Lydia out of the way, feeling claws wrap around his shoulder, his feet leaving the ground as he was driven into the gates. Derek grunted, pain bursting through him.

He blindly groped behind him where he’d sheathed the dagger Stiles had given him. His hand wrapped around a cool hilt, and Derek pulled it out of its sheath, taking desperate swipe but the creature jerked back, releasing him. Derek bit back a scream as he dropped to the ground. It lifted a claw and slashed at him. Derek rolled away in time as the claw bit into the ground.

Derek risked a glance around, seeing Stiles with a sword, a fucking _sword_ , in his hand, slicing at the things. He watched, wide eyes as two of them was reduced into golden dust which drizzled down on Stiles. Lydia looked to be holding her own, ducking away from a particularly deadly swipe, impaling the thing in its belly with lethal force.

Something gripped his leg, and skin burning as he was dragged back roughly before being tossed into the air. Derek’s insides flowed along with him for a beat and then gravity made itself known. Just as he was about to collide with the Earth, he heard the call of his name, and then his back met soft air. He looked over his shoulder, seeing nothing but a thin mist of pink, like cotton candy.

But he didn’t have time to think that through before he was attacked. This time, he was prepared. He ducked and swiped, getting in a slice before his dagger was knocked out his hand by another. He spun around, searching. He remembered Lou Ellen saying he could manipulate the mist, make anything be what he wished. He took a risk, a stupid risk, his eyes fixed one of the black steel bars of the gate. With fear burning through his veins, fueling his adrenaline, Derek squeezed his eyes and thought mentally screamed.

He heard one of those things screech at him. He felt the air around his shift, burning hot and stinging cold all the same. A solid object touched his palm, Derek curled his hand around it, and swung, eyes snapping open to see a black sword like something out of a movie.

The thing flew through the air as if being pushed by an invisible force, but victory was short lived as more came at him. Derek ran toward Stiles, who had three on his back. Derek sliced at it. It hissed but didn’t turn to dust like it would have had Derek had his dagger, instead it flew through the air like its friend did.

“How are you doing that?” Stiles shouted; calculated eyes bewildered.

“I DON’T KNOW !”

Lydia grunted out, “It’s the mist.” She came to them, and they turned, back to back essentially. “He’s manipulating it.”

He wanted to ask more but he couldn’t. His words were forgotten as more of them came. Lydia and Stiles seemed more experience than him, dusting most of the things, while he just drove them away, leaving his friends with more time to attack.

“There’s too many of them!” Stiles shouted. He ducked and Derek took a swipe. “We can’t beat— _LYDIA!_ ”

His heart jumped to his throat and he spun, watching in horror as three claws sunk into Lydia’s stomach. Her green eyes widened, shocked. She opened her mouth, gasping for air, her knees giving out as the thing ripped its claws out of her stomach.

Derek jerked forward, catching her as she crumpled to the ground, his ears ringing as Stiles roared in fury. He held her close, watching numbly as another one of those things flew at them only to be repelled by an invisible barrier.

The air around him rippled and his eyes gravitated toward the source of the disturbance, knowing for sure his eyes must be playing a trick on him because out of nowhere, as if formed by the shadows itself, a man appeared. His voice was soundless, but Stiles and Lydia seemed to have heard it. He said something, his hands lifted, palms up in the form of a silent surrender.

A part of him sobbed, a dismayed and sour resignation claimed in for a beat, thinking this was it. He was going to die, and his sister was trapped down in the underworld.

But then something amazing happened.

Those things turned their backs on him and his friends, mouths agape, revealing glistening and yellowing fangs. An invisible force emanated from the man’s hands and those things was blown away from them, golden dust raining down on Stiles, Derek and Lydia.

Hands touched his shoulder and sound drifted through his ears.

“… rek. Der..rek. Derek! It’s okay, you can stop, it’s okay.”

But he didn’t know that.

He couldn’t be sure. The man rushed over to them, his dark eyes meeting Derek’s for a beat before they dropped to Lydia.

“It’s alright.” He said, his voice accented. “It’ll be okay.”

Then shadows enveloped them all and Derek’s visible blackened out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not everything follows the Percy Jackson universe. I changed some details and added my own.
> 
> But some things are from the universe like Dionysus's inability to remember the campers names.
> 
> In the books he makes of point of calling Percy Jackson, Peter Johnson.
> 
> So... I am a little skeptical about this chapter, so please let me know what you all think.
> 
> I hope you liked it!


	4. Feel My Way Through The Darkness (Guided By A Beating Heart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title by Wake Me UP- Avicii (Madilyn Bailey's cover)

_He was somewhere else._

_It seemed familiar, the air warm and soothing. A part of him felt comforted by this place._

_Derek wanted to look around, but his vision was compromised. Dark dots danced around his vision, obstructing his view of the whole place, making it so all he saw were incomprehensive scenes. He attempted to look at himself, but own form was difficult to discern, his legs appearing and disappearing whenever he blinked. When he moved his arms, the movements felt sluggish._

_Faint noises reached his ears._

_He drifted closer to it and the sound, the voice, became clearer. His heart leaped as recognition struck him._

_“Do not touch me!”_

_He opened his mouth to call out and, as if his innate recognition of her was the glasses he needed for this strange and hazy world, his vision became clear. His eyes wondered over to her without having to physically move them. Heart to throat, Derek took her in, pieces of her solidifying before his eyes: Her small form in a a black gown, her skin pale against the dark fabric. Her arms looked unnaturally clear, and it drew him closer to her. Her dark hair was not in its usual ponytail, and her features, it was… more defined, less softened._

_He tried calling out, but no sound left him. It was if he was in a vacuum, a forced separation keeping him from reaching her and her hearing him._

_She was talking to a man he had never seen before who moved to grab her arm roughly._

_He screamed louder, his body throbbing as he pushed to reach for her. All the effort futile._

_She sneered; hand fisted as she tugged in the man’s grip. “I will never obey you.”_

_He gave on final push and cold air chilled him, running thick through his body, snatching him away from the scene, his throat vibrating as he_ r name left his lips.

“Cora! Cora!” He jerked up, the sudden awareness of his own body kicking him into a gear, and Derek stumbled to his feet, blindly moving around.

He shook his head, his eyes picking up blurred forms before him that seemed to tilt at a dizzying angle along with him: A blonde, the man, someone- Stiles! He focused on the other boy, his feet carrying him closer, his knees giving in, and arms wrapped around him, catching him.

Derek inhaled the sweet scent, like melons or… He gripped onto the solid form, his voice forming words his mind was too static with panic to structure.

“Saw… She…My… Cora… Help… Cora… Man… Cora, she—”

“It’s okay, it okay.” He heard beside him, his head over where to the unfamiliar voice where bright blue eyes and a caring smile greeted him. He leaned away from the stranger’s touch and ended up pressed against Stiles in his attempts, who tightened his arm around Derek. The man smiled at him, eyes flickering to Stiles before they returned to Derek.

“It’s okay. Derek, right? My name is [Will](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Will_Solace), I’m a son of Apollo, this is my husband, [Nico](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Nico_di_Angelo). You met my brother, Scott, right? It’s okay here, you are safe.”

He was guided to the couch where he’d jumped up from. The hands touching him vanished as Stiles stepped away and Will stepped in, kneeling before Derek.

Seeing the man, and remembering Scott, his heart slammed against his chest, a burst of imagery assaulting him, carrying terror along with it.

“Lydia!” Her name burned his throat. “Where’s Lydia?”

“Lydia’s fine, Derek.” Stiles answered him, stepping closer, snapping Derek’s attention to him. “She’s right there, look.” He nodded toward the other side of the room.

Derek followed his gaze, and relief crashed over him when he saw Lydia’s sleeping form on another couch. Her stomach was wrapped, her forehead and arms banged up with nicks and cuts. She looked so calm, at peace, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took.

Suddenly dizzy, he leaned back against the couch. Will turned to the dark hair man, Nico, who handed him a cup.

When did he leave to get that? Or was it already there?

Will took it with a grateful smile and turned, offering it to Derek.

“Drink. It’s Nectar. It will help with your injuries, and the dizziness.”

Derek looked to Stiles for confirmation. The brunet seemed shocked by the act, and Derek could care less. He didn’t know these people, he didn’t trust them, but he knew Stiles and he trusted Stiles. Once the brunet offered him a small nod, Derek took the drink, sniffing it.

It smelt like hazelnut flavored hot coco; the kind his dad used to make him and Cora.

“Small sips, alright.” Will advised. “It’s the food of the gods and drinking it can heal any injury. But too much of it can and will incinerate you.”

The hot-coco flavored drink suddenly felt like hot lava. Sweet delicious deadly hot lava. It rested on his tongue, Derek refusing to swallow now that he knew this stuff could kill him.

Will chuckled at his expression. “But it won’t. I’m a child of Apollo, I know how to care for my patients.”

He risked a glance to Stiles, before he swallowed slowly and thickly, the drink soothing his insides. As he drank, Derek assessed his surroundings. He was in a spacious and aesthetically decorated sitting room, with ruby, velvety red couches. There was touch of color that gave the room a soothing feeling. A few vases of beautiful flowers sat here and there, livening up the room, the walls were covered in pictures of people, some he recognized and others he didn’t.

On a small coffee table by the couch sat a picture Nico and Will in suits, both of them smiling at the camera, Nico standing before Will whose arms curled around the smaller man, their cheeks pressed together endearingly. It was clear they were at their wedding.

Another photo stood beside it. In it, a man with dark hair and blue, almost ocean green eyes, was beside a woman covered in sweat, with Nico on her other side and in her arms rested a sleeping infant. In the different picture, he saw Stiles and the same woman, her curly blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. They stood side by side and perched on Stiles’ hip was a little girl with dark hair, like the other guy and grey eyes like the blonde woman.

He saw a picture of Will and Scott, and Stiles. He saw Nico with a golden eyed girl, both of them dressed in Halloween costumes: Nico in an impressive Deadpool costume and the girl was perfectly dressed as Domino.

His attention drifted to the real life Will, whose smile had yet to fade. He looked like sunlight personified, with his sky-blue eyes and golden blonde hair. His skin was freckled, indicating he spend a lot of time in the sun. His appearance made him look like a typical surfer dude, with the beaded necklace and assorted arms bands completing the look.

His husband looked like his exact opposite. With shaggy dark hair that was pulled into low bun. His dark clothes, from his ripped black jeans, black shirt, right up to his black leather jacket gave him a Gothic appearance. He had a skull ring that he kept twisting which looked harsh compared to the black ring that adorned his ring finger. Derek looked and saw Will had a silver band, with a black gems decorating the front, three rectangles rested above and below it with diamonds rested in all six.

“You sure about this?” He heard Nico asked.

Derek looked up in time to see Stiles nod. He wondered if he’d zoned out and missed something important.

“But my father would never take someone without good reason.” Nico said. “He is the god of the Underworld, but he isn’t a monster.”

Ice filled his veins. “Your father took my sister?”

All eyes turned to him. Will gave him a sympathetic look, Stiles looked collected like always and Nico looked angry at the unintentional insinuation in Derek’s tone.

“It would seem.”

Before Derek could even think of jumping up and wrap his hands around Nico’s neck and demand he talk to his father and release his sister, Stiles spoke up, his eyes fixed on Derek. His cool amber orbs calmed down his racing thoughts and irrationality.

“We aren’t responsible for our parent’s actions.” He looked at Derek meaningfully. “The gods are manipulative, but they have their reasons.”

“I DON’T CARE ABOUT THEIR REASONS!” Derek exclaimed, anger winning over. “I care about my sister and getting her back.”

“And we will.” Stiles shifted closer, the cold look in his eyes soften into something else. “That’s why we came to Nico. He knows his father and he can help.” He turned to the man in question. “Right?”

“I can try.” Nico sighed, a burdened expression dimming his already despondent features. Eyes that Derek had once thought to be dark, but was actually dark green in the correct light, met his. “You’re a child of Hecate?”

Derek frowned, the statement still so weird but, alas, it was true. He nodded, regrettable.

“Good.” Nico stated. “It means that when you two go down to the underworld, your mother’s powers will guide you through. Her connection to the underworld should protect you.”

Derek didn’t know much about Hecate, so he took Nico’s word for it. Which he only trusted because Stiles trusted the man.

“He’s already powerful.” Will added out of the blue. “I haven’t seen a child of Hecate control the mist as well as you and with so little training.” Blue eyes locked with his, respectful and kind.

Nico scoffed. “Dumb luck. Percy was powerful but he bullshitted his way through almost every quest.”

[Percy..](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Percy_Jackson). He remembered that name. He’d heard it here and there, in reference to the Seven. His eyes flickered to the group picture and with a quick count, he counted more than seven, but he hypothesized that at least some of those people were a part of the Legendary Seven.

Stiles’ lips twitched. “Percy has his moments. [Annabeth](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Annabeth_Chase) can attest to that.”

“Your sister is biased.” Nico waved off.

Will chuckled, but the light moment vanished when Derek cleared his throat pointedly.

Stiles glared at him, Nico met his eyes blankly and Will had the decency to look sorry.

“You guys have a plan?” Nico got back to the topic.

He was about to say no, when Stiles nodded. “I did. I was hoping you could get some of Persephone’s pearls. I know it’s a lot to ask but we need them. We can’t remain out here too long.”

Nico’s eyebrows lifted. “Ah, you guys are on an unauthorised quest. Your sister and brother in law would be proud.” The sarcasm dripped through his tone.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “You joined Annabeth and Percy on quests before without Chiron’s permission. You raised your sister from the dead, so you don’t have any ground to really stand on.”

Derek’s mind latched onto that peace of information, the abnormality in that statement and the casual way it was voiced short circuiting his rational thought processes. “You raised your sister from the dead? Like… the Walking Dead?” Those words caused a flush of embarrassment to settle within him.

Will snorted, his smile blooming at he looked at Derek with glimmering eyes. “Oh, wow. I can’t wait to tell [Hazel](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Hazel_Levesque) that.” He patted Derek’s knee. “We’ll catch you up on the demigod history, later, but for now,” He turned to Nico. “Can you do it?”

“I can.” Nico looked at Will and then Derek. “You sure you want to continue this quest? You might not like what you find.”

Derek glared at him. “It’s my sister.”

Nico sighed with resignation, his expression suggesting he wasn’t surprised by Derek’s response. “Very well.” He walked over to Will, leaned down for a quick kiss. “I’ll be back.”

He stepped away and then shadows enveloped. A moment later and the air before Will was left empty. Derek blinked in wonder, eyes wide and disbelieving. The blonde man sighed, his shoulder slumping, apprehension darkening his features. His worry, so clear and evident, caused a knot to twist in Derek stomach. Guilt claimed him, the brunt of Stiles’ request finally registering.

It was clear that wherever Nico was going was dangerous, and he did it without hesitation, leaving behind a worried husband. All for people he didn’t know…

“I’m…” He trailed off for a moment when blue eyes looked at him, sky eyes swimming in worry. “I’m sorry for bringing this to you. I didn’t…”

Will shook his head, a forced smile claiming his mouth. “It’s okay, Derek. We’re demigods, it comes with the life.” With his forced upbeat smile, Will pushed himself up to stand. “Can I get you anything? Stiles?”

Stiles shook his head.

Will nodded. “Alright, well, I’m gonna go make me some tea.” And with that he vanished into what Derek presumed was the kitchen.

Silent fell over them. Derek’s conscience tense and his heart plagued with guilt, fear and unease, his eyes dancing from Stiles to Lydia, to where Will had disappeared into it.

The son of Athena moved over to him, taking a seat beside him.

Derek wanted to say something, but there was so much thoughts demanding to be heard that he couldn’t decide which was more important. His mind guided him toward the most pressing matter. “Is she gonna be okay?” His eyes fell on Lydia’s still sleeping frame.

Stiles turned, looking in the same direction. “She should be. Will gave her some ambrosia before she fell asleep. Her body will do the rest.”

Amber eyes fixed on him. Derek looked away, the sharpness in those eyes leaving him feeling bare and vulnerable. He took a sip of the nectar, swallowing while his thoughts slowly and surely collected itself. Stiles was quiet beside him, and, after a heavy moment, Derek finally spoke.

He looked at the other boy, “Thank you for coming with me.”

Stiles’ calculated eyes assessed him. Derek was beginning to think Stiles analysed everything around him. “It was the right thing to do. You could have gotten yourself killed had you gone alone.”

“So, you did it for me?” He joked, but his tone fell short.

“I would have done it for any demigod.” Stiles informed him shortly. Derek stared at him, holding firm. He watched as the cool mask gave-way to one of amusement, a touch of warmth that he’d glimpsed only aimed at others appeared. Amber orbs rolled and cupid-bow lips tugged up. “But, yeah, I guess, you could say I did it for you.”

“I thought you didn’t like me.”

The light expression fell, and Derek instantly regretted opening his mouth. But the words were out there, hanging over them both like a wet blanket.

Stiles attention drifted to Lydia. “I have lost a lot of people in my life. It’s easier not to bring anyone in it these days.”

Derek recalled what Erica and Boyd had told him. About Stiles and the Wars’ he’d fought in. It scared Derek, leaving his heart constricted in a tight fist at the idea of what this boy, no older than him, had seen. He had fought in not one, but two wars in his lifetime. He couldn’t image the loss and grieve Stiles must have gone through and was probably still going through.

Desperate to not be a reminder of those horrible memories, Derek searched for a distraction and latched onto the first thing he saw. “Is that your sister?” He pointed to the picture of Stiles and blonde.

Stiles turned and the small smile returned on his lips. “Yeah. That’s Annabeth. And my niece, her daughter, Charlie.” He pointed to the pictures. “That’s Percy with her, there. She’d just given birth.”

Hearing Stiles talk about his sister caused the knot in his gut to twist painfully.

The Son of Athena noticed it instantly. “We’ll find her, Derek.”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

“I don’t. But what other choice do we have?”

*

It felt like hours, each minute, each second ticking on, when, in reality it must have been shorter.

Shadows appeared in the middle of the room and Derek and Stiles jumped up from the couch. Will appeared just Nico materialized from the shadows itself, arms reaching and wrapping around the other man, catching him in time.

The act seemed routine, and Derek’s heart twinges at the notion and their struggles. Normal couples don’t instinctively know how to react when their partner returns from a dangerous mission, heck most couples don’t even have to deal with this mess.

But here they were.

All because their parents decided it would be fun to spawn a bunch of demigods.

“Easy, easy.” Will repeated in hushed tones, moving Nico over with his guiding embrace. Stiles and Derek turned, eyes fixed and anxious as Nico sunk down on the now vacant couch, head tipped back, while Will brushed the hair away from his eyes and forehead, pressing his fingers against it as if to feel his temperature.

“You okay?” The words left Derek’s mouth before he could register it. “You feel…” He searched for a word and then settled on, “faint.”

Dark eyes looked up at him, pale lips tugged up into a weak smirk. “I’m fine.” He panted out. “Just how the Underworld is for me.”

“Did you get it?” Stiles spoke up, his shoulder brushing against Derek’s as he stepped closer to Nico.

Will shot him a warning look and Derek frowned at the other boy, a little shock that Stiles would dismiss Nico’s current state.

But the son of Hades nodded, reaching into his leather jacket, turning his fist and opening his palm to reveal two green-grey pearls. With closer inspection, Derek saw the way the grey swirled within and around the green, as if the pearl itself was alive, containing a tempered storm.

“Took a little digging and bargaining, but I did it.”

Derek’s head snapped up just as Will shouted, “Bargaining?”

Nico lifted a hand, brushing Will’s cheek with the back his hand, thumb stroking flushed skin. “It’s not a heavy price, _Amore_.”

Will turned his head into the touch, sighing with dark resignation.

Stiles reached out, taking the pearls out of Nico’s offering hand. “Thank you, Nico.” His tone was once again cool and collected. Almost formal in its address.

Had Derek not know the little personal information he knew about Stiles and Nico, he could have thought Stiles felt nothing for the man who had just journeyed the Underworld for them.

Nico looked at Stiles and gave him a firm nod. “You rest for the time being. It’s best if you leave tomorrow,” He cut off any of Derek’s protests with a stern and emphatic look. “If you enter the Underworld now, you will have more monsters against you. I entered my father’s realm without permission to take two transportation devices out of the Underworld. They will be on high alert. It’s best to wait.”

Blue eyes looked up and the warmth in it was gone. Suddenly, Derek saw the fire burning inside those orbs, getting a glimpse of a part of Will that rested behind the happy and joyous persona. “That isn’t up for debate. Nico will need time to rest, before he even thinks of opening a portal to the Underworld.”

Derek looked over to Stiles only to see the other boy glaring at Will, jaw clenched.

“Okay.” Derek answered for them both.

He knew, though he didn’t understand it all, that if Nico did open up a portal, he would be drained. He saw the essence of the shadows lingering around Nico, as if it was a part of him, or he was part of it. He somehow knew that the more Nico used the shadows, the more they drained him.

“I’ll make you something to eat.” Will ran his hand through Nico’s hair, smiling at the other man before he stood up and headed for the kitchen.

Derek looked around, suddenly unsure of what to do. He had woken up in this man’s house, had jumped straight into demi-god business and now… now he didn’t know what to do with himself. Does he sit? Does he stand? Was there some custom he didn’t know?

Stiles answered that by dropping down on an armchair, exhaling loudly. Nico looked at Derek, that smirk still there. Trusting his instinct, Derek moved and lowered himself onto the couch beside Nico, hearing pots and pans and banging from the kitchen.

He watched as Stiles pocketed the pearls in the breast pocket of a plaid shirt he hadn’t been wearing before. He shrugged out of the leather jacket and draped it over the back of the armchair. Nico sighed as he got comfortable, leaning back, head tipped toward Stiles.

“You should call your friends. Scott or someone?”

Stiles shook his head. “It’s best I don’t get them involved. We already broke the rules, I’d rather not bring more people down.”

Nico snorted. “You think Chiron doesn’t know you snuck out?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “No, I just don’t want to get more people in trouble. Derek is already in the shit because he left, and Lydia and I are in the same boat.”

A sick feeling churned his stomach. “What will happen to me?”

Stiles looked at him and Derek saw a flash of amusement dance across his face. “Nothing. You’ll probably be punished with toilet duty or something. I don’t know. Chiron has eased up since the [Second Giant War](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Second_Giant_War).”

“The what of what?” He asked, sure he had misheard. Did Stiles just utter the words “Giant?” and “War?”.

Stiles nodded, looking less than pleased as he informed Derek in vague details of a War between the gods and Gaea (You know that, the mother of the Greek gods. Mother Earth! Because why not). How it united the Roman Demigods and Greek demigods (That made him a bit dizzy, because it became clear that most mythology must be true… that all the gods and goddess he’d heard about were alive and had probably heard everything he’d sworn when playing God of War). Stiles brushed over the Romans, saying Derek will meet them soon or later. He then spoke of the War that ended with Romans and Greeks battling side by side and winning.

“And you were there?”

Stiles nodded, a dark glint sparking in his eyes. “For both, yes.”

“Both?” Nico was the one to answer that question. “A few years ago, New York had a little destruction, you remember?”

“Yeah, something about unstable infrastructure?” He wasn’t sure. He was very young when it has happened.

“I don’t know what the mortals came up with. Anyway, there was a [Prophesy](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Great_Prophecy) that said a child of the Big Three - you know Hades, Zeus and Poseidon - it said their child would help either end or save Olympus. We won, yay. Percy was the child who ended up saving Olympus.” He didn’t look all too happy about the victorious ending, anger seeping into his words.

Derek swallowed, saying nothing. The information was overwhelming. To know two Wars had already been won didn’t make anything better. This was his life, and the knowledge that everything he had ever been told, about life and its meaning and what it meant to be here, it was all a lie. It was misguiding at best.

_You want to go to college one day, Derek?_

_Sure, but like can I miss a few exams while I fight for my life?_

_You believe in God, Derek?_

_No, but my mother is a titan. Hey, where are you taking me? Is that a mental institution?_

It’s not like Derek could talk about this with anyone, and those he knew had lived a life that Derek had been shielded from. How could he relate to these people? To someone like Stiles who had been to War. He was technically a soldier, and Derek was just a kid who saw weird shit every now and then.

“Bottom line, son of Hecate, you need to prepare yourself for this world, for this life. It takes a lot.” Nico told him, sadness and grief evident in his tone.

Derek's attention drifted to the picture and he wondered who was no longer here, which one of those smiling faces was taken away.

There was more clanging, cutting through the despondent and gloomy air which had blanketed the room.

“Will!” Nico called out. “You need help?”

There was a crash. “No, no, I got it.”

Nico looked at Stiles and with a single nod, Stiles stood up and headed for the kitchen, his voice travelling as he said, “Okay, Solace, move aside.”

Dinner was served not long after. It was a simple vegetable soup that was yummy, and Derek had been on his second serving and Stiles on his fourth when everyone was finally finished. Derek offered to do the dishes and with a lot of insisting and compromising, Will and Derek found themselves in the kitchen.

They cleaned in relative silence, with Will breaking it every now and then, asking how Derek liked the camp, how everyone was. Derek was made aware that Scott and Erica were Will’s half siblings, which was an odd thing now that he thought about it.

He never saw Scott and Erica together, having met them separately, but to think they were brother and sister. It made the messed-up world he was thrusted into more bearable, to know that the camp was connected in such a familial way.

But Will told him it wasn’t always like that. Because some campers just didn’t get along with others. Apparently, it took a while for some to understand what a son of Apollo saw in a son of Hades. It wasn’t the gender thing, but more the parent thing which was a relief.

He discovered that some campers he should watch out, was those from the Aphrodite cabin.

“I mean, not all of them are as… different as [Piper](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Piper_McLean) and Lydia, and they can be a bit superficial—”

“Wait, wait… Lydia is a daughter of Aphrodite?” The question burst from his mouth, his mind thinking back on everything he knew about Aphrodite, and what Will had just told him. He knew she was one of the oldest goddess, older than the Big Three, he thought. And that she was the goddess of love. He also knew she was powerful.

His mind drifted to Lydia, memories of meeting her and seeing her and being transfixed by her beauty. It was if she had been drawing him in, breath by breath and he would have happily drowned had Stiles not ripped him out of the trace. He had thought it was just him being attracted to a beautiful girl, and it was, but her unnatural beauty made sense now.

“Oh, yeah. I was actually the one who found her. At first, I thought she was a daughter of Athena, but then she was claimed as a child of Aphrodite and that made sense, too. She had a lot of the goddess’s talents, but her brains throw a lot of people off. It’s why she is so close with Stiles. He was the first person who saw her as someone other than a daughter of Aphrodite. _Now_ , I thought they were gonna get together, but then Stiles started dating Malia. She is a child of Ares. We were all shocked, but they seemed to work but then—”

“Really, Will? Are you already gossiping about me?” A voice said behind him.

Derek turned and saw Stiles leaning against the door frame, judging eyebrows lifted. A blush heated Derek’s ears, and he turned, head ducked in hopes that no one noticed. He was interested in Stiles and the history of those who had opted to come with him.

He wanted to know more about them, about this world and the people in. And the fact that most of that information was centered around Stiles was not his doing but of those who chose to tell him these stories.

“No one was gonna tell him.” Will defended self-righteously.

“He would have found out in his own time.” Stiles shot back. “And how is my relationship with Lydia and Malia important?”

Will shrugged and casually dried a dish Derek handed to him. “I got carried away, curse me.”

Derek bit back a smile and refused to look up again until he heard Stiles walk away. He handed over a dish, meeting intrigued blue eyes and a teasing smile.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Will smiled and got back to work, but his smile made it clear it was everything but nothing.

They silently cleaned up. Once done, Will checked on Lydia while Nico got them some blankets and pillows.

“Take the couch, floor or armchair, whatever you are comfortable with and try and get some sleep.” He handed Derek a load of blankets and pillows, voice less matter of fact and more… comforting.

As if he wanted them to know they were welcome here.

“Thanks, Nico.” Stiles said as he took his share of the blankets, dumping them on the couch.

Derek turned to the dark-haired Son of Hades, a strained smile on his lips. He wanted to express his gratitude more warmly, but his mind was racing with horrendous thoughts, fear and worry powering the worst of it.

Now that the night had come to an end, the day’s events seemed to have caught up to him. His shoulders felt burdened, his heart in constant tension, every beat hurting him. He thought of his sister, who was down in the Underworld, her angry voice echoing through his head.

“Good night.” Will and Nico gave them one last smile before they turned and walked away, leaving Derek and Stiles behind in a deafeningly silent room.

He turned, intent on heading for the armchair when Stiles cut him off, “You’re taking the couch.”

Stopping, Derek looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Why?”

Stiles wasn’t look at him, instead he was getting the couch ready, laying a folded blanket on it, the act now seeming too nonchalant, now that Derek knew that the makeshift bed was meant for him.

“Because,” Stiles straightened up, reaching over to take Derek’s pile. “That armchair is going to hurt your back.”

“So I’ll take the floor—”

“No, you’re taking the couch.” Stiles shot him down swiftly.

Anger and frustration simmered beneath the surface of his fear and pain. “Do you always just order people around?”

Amber eyes, cool as way always locked with his. “Yes. Especially when they are being stupid.” He turned and made his bed, right on the floor, beside Derek’s couch bed, gently and methodically placing a blanket on the ground.

“Excuse me?” Derek practically growled out; his tone hushed so he didn’t disturb a sleeping Lydia. He glared at Stiles, tried of his pompous, know it all attitude, his lack of care in the way he dealt with people, the way he looked at a situation and decided he knew best, even if the others, those who had a personal investment, thought differently.

Stiles didn’t flinch, inhaling before he answered. “You can’t take the floor and armchair, it will injure your body and you need to be well rested for tomorrow. I am more experienced, have slept in worse conditions. I am used to a little pain here and there, and I have been trained to deal with it. You haven’t, _therefore_ , you need to sleep in a more comfortable place.” He gestured to the couch, expression scream ‘duh!’.

Derek blinked, stumped and annoyed by the logic behind that argument. He flexed his jaw, swallowing down the urge to fight it for no reason other than pure stubbornness.

“Fine.” He forced out.

“Good.” Stiles moved around the room, snatching up his jacket. Derek took the time to get out of his boots, now noticing how muddied and dirty it was. He grimaced but figured Will and Nico didn’t mind that much given they didn’t bring it up. Unlacing his boots, he placed them by the foot of the couch, opening the little taco-shell blanket Stiles had made for him. Slipping under, his body sunk into the soft surface, exhaustion crushing him.

He watched with lidded eyes as Stiles stopped by Lydia. He leaned down, whispered something to her, ending the one-way exchange with a gentle kiss to her forehead. Longing filled him at the sight. He missed his father, he missed Cora. He missed their love and affection.

Blinking back the sudden burn behind his eyes, Derek continued to watch Stiles as he gingerly folded his jacket and placed it beside his head. He slipped out of his converse, unsheathed his dagger and placed it beside him.

At the sight of the weapon, Derek’s exhausted body managed to tense up. “My dagg—”

“It’s in Lydia’s storage bag.” Stiles reassured him before he could even finish the sentence.

With a touch of relief, Derek lowered his head onto the pillow, nodding. “You always finish other people’s sentence?”

Stiles grunted as he sat down on the bed, getting comfortable in a clearly uncomfortable bed. “Son of Athena. I find it annoying and time wasting when people stutter over their words. Or ask obvious questions.”

“And you don’t find it rude?” He asked the empty space before him, as Stiles tipped back, out of his sight.

His voice drifted up from below. “Yes. But I tend to offend a lot of people.”

Derek swallowed. He wanted to sleep, his body screamed at him to close his eyes, but he didn’t want to. He feared the darkness, the silence and the dreams. He wanted to remain here, awake where he knew Stiles and Lydia were.

“I’m sorry for talking about you.” He said.

There was a shuffle. “It’s all right. Demi-gods enjoy gossiping. I’m used to it.”

“Still… Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

Silence followed.

And then, “How are you holding up?” Stiles whispered to him.

His heart tightened and his stomach fluttered from nerves. “Better than I expected. It’s a lot and I don’t think my brain has fully processed it all, yet.”

Stiles hummed. “I get that. I’m sorry your sister got dragged into this world. The gods have little care for mortals.”

He heard the venom behind those words. His heart warned him to tread carefully, his mind screaming at him to ask what that was about.

“You don’t have a good relationship with the gods?”

It was a stupid question. Of course, he didn’t have a good relationship with the gods given he had been a soldier in not one, but two of their Wars. He’d lost people because of this life, so obviously he didn’t!

“You could say that.” Stiles answered him, his tone soft as if he feared speaking up would disturb the bubble of temporary peace the they had formed.

Derek had thought that was it, but then Stiles continued, each of his words measured as if he was reciting a story he’d memorized. “I didn’t know my mother Athena. But, that’s not new, no Demigod has ever known their parents and if they did, it was never good memories. Growing up, it was just my dad and me. We depended on each other.

The story’s mirroring of his caused an ache to form in the center of his chest.

“I was happy, but… occasionally, the gods like to be cruel. Though, I never met my mother, I remembered her. I remember her smile, her laugh, the way her hand felt in mine as I sat with her in her hospital bed. I remember the numbness that took hold of me when her hand dropped in mine, heavy and… lifeless."

Derek frowned, shifting to let Stiles now he was listening, scared that if he spoke, Stiles, the Stiles he’d come to know, would close off and fence him out.

“Hera, Zeus’s wife, hated him for his affairs, with mortals and other creatures. But she never took it out on him, but instead she took it out on those who had loved him. Athena was a product of his infidelity, so every now and then, she would be especially cruel to a child of Athena.” A heavy pause followed. “When I was seven, my mom died of frontotemporal dementia. I was with her, when she died. My dad was on a case and he couldn’t make it, so it was us that hospital room. After that, my father’s grief became unbearable, he turned to alcohol to help numb the pain. So, I was left to basically parent myself.”

Derek swallowed thickly; the cocktail of emotions congealed into a suffocating lump.

“Everything that I remember about my mom and the ripple affect her death had on my dad and me, was fabricated by Hera as revenge for Zeus’s infidelity.”

His words were stuck in his throat, constricting his airways, making it difficult to breathe. He turned on his side, hand curling on the edge of the couch, a desire to comfort Stiles even though he knew there was a high possibility it wouldn’t be well received.

“I’m sorry, Stiles.” He whispered, the words leaving him softly.

“It’s alright. My point is, regardless of your connection to the events, the part you may have played in it, none of this is your fault. The gods are often cruel, just for the sake of it, or due to selfish reasons.” Stiles exhaled as if expelling the heaviness of the memories and the tension the openness had caused. “I hope you remember that.”

Derek took a few cautious breaths, gathering his emotions, centering his scattered thoughts. He moved a little closer to the edge, but he didn’t move to look down at Stiles.

Finally, when he was sure he was composed, he said. “I appreciate that.”

Silence over them, with Derek unsure of what to say next, waiting for Stiles to say more, though a part of him figured Stiles was done sharing.

He was proven right when he heard a definite rustle of sheets. “G’night, Derek.”

His blinked, his eyes heavy. He allowed the drowsiness to consume him, allowed darkness to claim his vision and then finally, sleep took him away from the world he was in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, Nico and Will are my favorite couple!
> 
> Charlie is my own character because Percy and Annabeth don't have a kid in the books.
> 
> Also, the girl beside Nico, dressed as Domino is Hazel. 
> 
> I hope you all liked it. Feedback is appreciated<3


	5. Where The Shadow Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Sorry for the late update, school has been keeping me busy.
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos <3

They woke up to a cup of coffee and a wide away Lydia.

The second Stiles saw her, he scrambled out from the makeshift bed, feet kicking up sheets. Derek watched with a smile slowly blossoming on his lips as Lydia released a yelp when Stiles literally picked her up off the couch, arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace.

Her laugh was humorous and fond as she curled her arms around Stiles. The tips of her toes barely touching the ground.

“I’m okay, Stiles.” She said to him, her voice honey smooth.

Stiles said nothing but he didn’t let go of her. Sensing the intimacy behind the moment, Derek averted his gaze, looking around the room. He saw Nico, dressed in similar clothes as the day before save for the studded boots he had on, standing in the entrance of the hallway. He was leaning against the wall, sharing a simple yet meaningful glance with Will, who winked before returning his attention to Stiles and Lydia, smiling as he did so.

After a while, Stiles finally pulled away from the embrace, taking step back to better look Lydia over with clinical eyes.

“I’m healed, Stiles.” She touched his cheek. The son of Athena met her stare, his tense shoulder dropping as a weight was literally lifted.

Then apple green orbs fell on him Derek, leaving him feeling bare, as if all his defense, all his thoughts were open to her to read and critic as she liked.

While Stiles and Lydia had been in a tight embrace, Derek had subconsciously stood up from the couch, as if drawn up by them, his mind seeking that form of comfort and companionship. She smiled at him, her eyes thinning and her rose lips spreading.

“You’re okay?” Derek asked, risking a step closer. Stiles stepped away from her, keeping close, but giving her the space to talk to Derek without being a barrier.

She nodded. “I’ve had worse.” She waved a hand.

He found himself nodding, not sure what to do or say. He wanted to hug her, allow her to feel his appreciation for her help, expressing it through physical contact instead of feeble words. Her smile widened a touch as if she could sense his internal struggle. Given she was a child of Aphrodite, he wondered if she could.

Shit, did that meant she could sense the effect she had on him when they first met?

“You two might want to eat, get cleaned up. The sooner you leave the better.”

And just like that, the consolatory aura that had enveloped them was shattered by Nico’s impassive advice.

The smile on Stiles and Lydia’s faces fell and the heaviness that had been momentarily lifted crashed over Derek.

Silently, they did what they had to do. Derek gathered his clothes out of his duffel bag and headed for the shower. It was quick and routine. He was dressed before he knew it. He rinsed his mouth with mouthwash, looking at a misty mirror as he gargled.

He spat out the disgusting taste, his eyes drifting to the mirror where an opaque form stared back at him. Lifting a hand, Derek wiped the mirror clean, revealing a face he barely recognized. A curse was smothered by pressed lips when he saw how tired he looked, the bag under his eyes evident regardless of the sleep he had. But that wasn’t what evoked the almost scream, no, it was the small Jon-Snow-Looking scar that ran down his right eye.

It was red and raw as if it had been nothing but a small paper cut, and not a wound inflicted by a winged creature from the Underworld. He touched it, feeling the heat under his finger pad, his heart racing. He knew it should be healed by now, gone or at least faded, but instead it looked new, like it was sustained barely an hour ago.

He distantly recalled Scott’s shocked exclamation when he’d wiped Derek’s face clean of that weird healing dirt.

His eyes wanted to look away, but he found himself unable to. He stared at himself, seeing Derek Hale looking back at him, but… he was different. A light was gone, a part of him was missing. He could feel it.

A knock on the door startled him back to reality.

“Derek, are you done?” He heard Stiles muffled voice.

Shaking himself, Derek cleared his throat and called out, “yeah, I’m coming out now.”

He opened the door, allowing the stream to escape. He was greeted with an empty hall, and when he made his way to the sitting area, Stiles walked past him, heading for the bathroom without a glance or a grunt. He dumped his dirty clothes in the duffel bag, listening in as Lydia, Nico and Will went over the final details.

“It should be easy.” Nico assured her. “Derek’s connection with the underworld will allow him to find my—”

“Wait, my what?” He spun to look at Nico with wide eyes.

“Your connection. You are titan’s child, but you are also the child of a titan who has traveled the underworld, who guides those travelling in the underworld.”

Lydia nodded. “And we think that would be beneficial for you and Stiles. You will be able to sense where you want to go, know the world even though you have never set foot in it.”

“And how do you know I have a connection. Lou Ellen said all children of Hecate are different.”

Nico gestured to his face with a bored expression. “Your scar.”

His stomach twisted at Nico’s words, his mind racing, dreading the idea that his fears had been heard by the son of Hades. Derek self-consciously touched his eye, gently running his finger down the length of the heated mark that marred his face.

“What about it?” He asked, swallowing thickly when he heard the catch in his voice.

“It hasn’t healed, because it was inflicted by a creature of the underworld. When two worlds meet, especially a world like my father’s realm, then it leaves a mark, a lingering reminder of its presence. My scars that I received when in the underworld almost never heals completely, no matter how long Will spends on them.” He shot his husband a regretful but fond look before he returned his attention back to Derek. “That mark is a sign of your connection to the underworld. That’s how we know.”

Lydia eyes were glimmering with sympathetic pain. She looked physically aggrieved that Nico was springing all of this on Derek _now_.

He didn’t say more on the matter and Nico took that as a sign to continue. Not long after, Stiles reappeared with damp hair sleeked back and out of his face, the only indication that he had showered. He was dressed in dark jeans, a white shirt and his grey converse, composed as he had been when he walked past Derek.

Derek remembered what the son of Athena had revealed about his past and he wondered if Stiles ever allowed himself to express his troubles openly without a faux aura of control.

“Have you told him that plan?” He said, making his presence known; inserting himself effortless into the conversion.

Nico nodded. “He was listening.”

He hated how dismissive they all were, but he was also comforted by it. It brought a sense of relief that they didn’t make a big fuss over his lack of knowledge about everything it seems, they didn’t overwhelm him with platitudes, and they didn’t become aggravated by him in general. He had been listening and Nico, he knew, had made sure he was by glancing over to him every now and then.

“Okay, good.” Stiles looked at Derek. “You ready?”

Nico handed Stiles his jacket which contained the pearls.

Derek nodded silently, moving to shrug on his own jacket, hand reaching for his bag when Lydia’s sweet voice halted him, “Leave it. I’ll take your bags back to Camp Half Blood.”

He nodded again, hand dropping as he straightened up. He turned and watched as Stiles drew Lydia into a hug, squeezing her tight. She closed her eyes and visibly inhaled, whispering something to Stiles that Derek couldn’t hear.

Stiles nodded and pulled away, smiling at her.

He was so transfixed by the moment, that shock struck him when Lydia walked over and pulling toward her. Her sweet fragrance drifted up his nose, and Derek easily returned her hold, the tension and turmoil rolling on within him loosening simply by her touch.

“You’ll make it out.” She uttered.

And Derek believed her wholeheartedly.

When she pulled away, Derek forced himself to remain in control. He composed his features, walking over to Stiles who was standing with Nico by the spacious area of the living room. His took controlled breathes, his mind going over everything that had been discussed, repeating it over and over, nodding along as he did so.

“Okay, Stiles, you know how it works.” Nico addressed them both. “When you get down there, you don’t stop. You make your way to the [Charon](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Charon), he will take you to Hades’s palace. Ten Drachmas should ensure nothing happens to you on the journey. Once there, you go to Hades, find out where they are keeping Derek’s sister. Persephone should help with, but I can’t be absolutely sure. Once you have Cora, take her and leave. Do not wait, do not hesitate. You think about Camp Half Blood, real hard and step on them. Derek hold onto your sister, if her essence is lost, I can’t be sure we can find her.” Obsidian eyes glared at him, the dark abyss of his orbs sending chills down Derek’s spine.

Derek nodded, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

Nico took a step back, Will’s presence hovering behind him. Derek’s eyes flickered to the son of Apollo, saw the worry in his orbs and the knot in his chest tightened. Fear ran thick through his veins, chilling him.

Closing his eyes, Nico lifted his hands, and a formless shadow materialized beside them. It expanded and grew, like a dark, hellish portal. The heat emitting from it, licked at his form, soothing away the fear in him, and Derek naturally, instinctively turned toward it.

“Go. Now.” Nico ordered.

Without another word, Stiles and Derek stepped over the threshold and allowed darkness to swallow them whole.

*

He felt comforted, like the shadows were a protective shield. However, the feeling vanished a moment later, leaving Derek in an unfamiliar place. It was suffocating, the darkness, but Derek’s vision adjusted to it after a few trying blinks. The air smelt humid, his skin tight and loose, all the same. His body seemed to know this place, a sense of familiar lingering through him as he took everything in. From the low lighting that casted the room in fiery glow.

He inched closer, when a hand grabbed his arm, stopping him. The touch brought him back to the situation, and he felt lost when Stiles dropped his hand a second later.

Derek turned and his heart clenched when he saw the confusion and fear in Stiles calculated eyes. He inhaled sharp breathes, and he had his dagger drawn, as if ready for an attack.

“Stiles.” Derek said his name, drawing those Amber eyes to his. “It’s okay.”

“I know that. Logically, but… Children of Athena do not belong down here. It… The place. It feels dangerous.” Those eyes bore into his. “I can’t… I can’t see well down here, Derek.”

He acted without thought, reaching out to grab Stiles hand. He pushed the comfort aura he felt, knowing that it would work, though he wasn’t sure how he knew. Stiles hand spasmed in his, fingers digging in. Derek stepped to the side, opening the view for Stiles to see, and his heart lurched when Stiles exhaled a faint breath.

“Do you see it?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded. “How are you doing this?”

“I don’t know.” He looked down at their hands. He squeezed Stiles’ hand reassuringly before he took a step forward. “C’mon we can’t waste time.”

He took them down an unfamiliar path, but a distant, indistinct part of Derek urged him on, inherently knowing the path. They walked down a glistening spiral slope that glimmered and shimmered as the torches nailed to the walls casted dancing lights off it. They seemed to be on a mountain structure, with a single path winding down and around, curling like a single coiled road.

It was large enough for two people, so Stiles was always visible from the corner of his eye. Derek kept his gaze down casted, focused on the road, the path, the assuring grip of Stiles hand in his. The heat become thicker the lower they went, and it made sense.

He didn’t know the Underworld, but Derek figured it was like the Earth’s core. The lower you go, the hotter it gets.

“How do you know the path?” Stiles asked after a while.

“I just do.” Derek felt insecure saying this. He didn’t know anything about this world, yet he knew which way to go. “It’s like I’ve been here before.”

He felt Stiles eyes on him when he said this but refused to meet those critical orbs. The ground became clear, the rocky earth no longer appearing as smooth and slippery as before and Derek exhaled when they finally did the last turn, step off the road together. He looked around, taking in the infinite height of the path they had taken. It looked like a week’s hike.

“We need to find Charon.” Stiles said and Derek nodded, taking a right, heading toward an unknown location.

Stiles followed him without a word. The ground they were walking on looked to have been made from lava, cooled down years ago, the stone floor blacked and gleaming. His lungs took in deep gulps of heated air, his mind calm for the first time since Cora had gone mission.

He felt comfortable here.

It reminded him of those long nights when his insomnia refused him sleep. He didn’t fight it, nor did he feel burdened by it. The night comforted him, calmed him.

“You okay?” Stiles’ gentle voice startled him.

Derek’s head snapped over, eyes narrowed because he was sure he misinterpreted the tone, but wide eyes met his, and the worry swirling within them had his heart all kinds of confused. He swallowed, looking away, eyes finding interest in their joined hands.

“I will be once we get my sister.” He answered.

Stiles’ fingers pressed against the meat of his hands, expressing his silent understand.

Derek looked out ahead of them, eyes detecting a faint glow in the distant. He knew deep down that was where they needed to go, and so he continued on, focusing on each step, on Stiles presence, on the floor and the earth and their surroundings.

“I hope she’s okay.” He found himself voicing. “I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m having these nightmares about her trapped down here---”

Stiles hand gripped his painfully and he vanished from Derek’s periphery. His sudden halt, jerked Derek’s arm back. He bit back a wince at the pain that flared in his shoulder from the abrupt movement.

“What?” He spun around, eyes wide with fear thinking something might be coming for them, but the look of terror in Stiles eyes stopped the subsequent words from passing his lips.

Stiles stepped forward, his gaze urgent. “You’ve had dreams? About Cora?”

Derek nodded, fear gripping and squeezing his lungs and heart. “Yeah, why?” When the son of Athena didn’t answer, panic surged through him. “What, Stiles?”

The worry was blinked away, and Stiles features smoothed out as his brain had finally gained control over his emotions. “It’s nothing—”

“Bullshit.” He gripped Stiles’ hand emphatically. “Tell me.”

Swallowing, Stiles tipped his chin back, meeting Derek eyes as he said. “Demigods never simply dream. Those dreams are almost always a depiction of reality. Whatever you dreamt, whatever you saw… I’m sorry, Derek, it may have been happening that very moment.”

His eyes burned and a thick lump formed in his throat. His mind raced with images of Cora in a black dress, the anger in her voice, the defiance in her tone. He thought of his baby sister, the way she always stood up for herself, moving herself beside Derek as she got older, refusing to be shielded by him.

“C’mon.” Stiles whispered to him. “Let’s go find her, okay.”

He turned and walked on, his hold on Stiles anchoring him to the moment. Neither said another word as they trekked toward the light in this endless darkness. As they got closer, the burning light became clear. The glow was a stream, constructed by multiple strands of light interwoven into a long, precarious ro—no _river_.

The gentle rippling that drifted through it made it look like a flowing river.

Derek and Stiles stepped closer, Derek’s attention drawing to a lone cloaked and hooded figure on a small wooden boat. As they approached, the figure moved, head twisting, revealing a pale, bony face. His ashy complexion was ghostly. However, when Derek blinked, his image and features were altered, and his hood was down.

Instead of Death himself staring at him, a handsome man with chocolate-colored skin and bleach blonde close-cropped hair appraised him. All that remained the same was his eyes, hollow and cold, and swirling with death and darkened with despair.

He looked at Stiles then at Derek. His eyes widened and his lips parted in a barely seen smile. “Ah, a child of Hecate.” He spoke in an English accent. “With a son of Athena, no less.” He shook his head, almost amused. “I swear, since that Son of Poseidon and Daughter of Athena married, no one cared about the history behind the parents. It’s nice to see two godlings working together just like their parents did.”

Derek knew nothing, so he overlooked Charon’s words. However, Stiles acknowledged them, nodding with a grime smile.

“The gods never truly see eye-to-eye.” He said.

Charon chuckled. “On that I can agree, son of Athena. I am still waiting for my raise, you know. I am stuck here, in this morbid cloak. It won’t kill anyone if I gifted myself with a stylish Italian suit.” He grinned. “Pun unintended, of course.”

“We need your help.” Derek spoke then, unable to take the idle chit-chat.

Charon rolled his eyes. “Your kind always does. But my service is not offering freely.”

Stiles, without letting go of Derek’s hand, reaching into his leather jacket pocket and pulled out a hand full of golden drachmas. “Will this do?”

Charon lifted his hand, palm up and waiting. Stiles leaned forward, slipping the shimmering coins into his hand. Long fingers gracefully curled around the coins.

“We need to get to Hades.” Stiles said.

“Very well, hop on board.”

Derek stumbled a bit as Stiles hastily stepped on the small boat, not at all bothered that the boat was rocking on open air. Derek gripped his hand and followed along, taking the seat beside Stiles. Charon turned the boat with a single long oar fixed into the back of the boat, and without doing anything, the boat was eased out into the open stream. The golden river of essence urged them along, the heated air moving along with them. He felt its warmth breeze, as if the walls, the floor and everything around them was breathing.

He turned and met encouraging amber eyes. Stiles’ lips ticked up into a small smile, his hand squeezing Derek. Without meaning to, Derek leaned against Stiles’ side, bumping their shoulders together in solidarity.

The river turned gentle, and the boat turned with it. Derek looked around them, and his eyes caught the tiny objects that were flowing with the golden river. It’s solid forms never touched the boat, instead it moved around it.

He saw random objects pass them by. A broken notebook, a typewriter with a page still attached to it. A watch, a compass, a teddy bear mission an ear and an eye.

“They are lost dreams.” Stiles said to him. Derek looked away and to the other boy as he continued. “All things that are lost, dead or forgotten end up here. Souls and objects and memories.”

The eerie tone caused Derek to divert his attention to something else. But just as he moved his attention, a black stoned manor claimed his undivided attention. He gaped up at the enormous building that rested a mountain that stretch so far up, the tip of the building was impossible to make out even with his magic sight.

“Here you are.” Charon announced, smiling secretively. He stopped right on the edge of the mountain where two black oak doors greeted them, sealed shut with a skull ironed in the center. “Ask and delivered.”

Derek nodded and Stiles thanked Charon formally. Together they stepped out, their hands still linked. The moment their feet touched the ground, the power of the building seemed to crush down on him. He felt its energy, felt its depths. He knew once he set foot in, he would be trapped.

He turned to Charon only to find the golden stream empty, the boat nowhere in sight.

“You ready?” Stiles asked him.

Derek looked at the son of Athena, a boy he’d met no more than 3 days ago, who had journeyed with him down to the underworld, all because he wanted to protect him. Regret at having dragged Stiles down with him to this hellish nightmare of a mission filled him. He thought of his sister who was snatched up Furies, all because of him and his connection to the Greek Gods.

With Cora’s terrified eyes flashing before his, Derek nodded and walked on.

The moment they came close enough to the door, it eased open ominously. Amber eyes met his and Derek shoved down the warning bells that were screeching in his head. He had gotten this far, and Nico had said it wouldn’t be an easy journey.

When they entered an enormous hall, fear paralyzed them. The hall itself was large and endless with the floors polished bronze, reflecting and emphasizing the halls immense size, but what render their legs useless was the thousands of skeletons wondering around, who all stopped and snapped their bone necks and skulls in their direction the moment they walked through.

Empty eyes sockets all looked at him, their hallow gaze screaming ‘OUTSIDER ALERT!’

Derek swallowed thickly and opened his mouth. “Take me to Persephone.” His voice was deep and carried with more power than he had thought it would.

The skeletons cocked their head before two broke away from their duties and walked away. After exchanging an uncertain glance as they watched the two skeletons limping away. In unison, they stopped at a corner, their unstable bodies halting. They turned to Stiles and Derek, their mouths agape.

“I think we should follow them.” Derek offered, looking at Stiles for confirmation.

The son of Athena rolled his eyes. “You think, genius.” And with a tug on his hand, Stiles headed for the skeletons.

Behind him, a small smile grew on Derek’s lips from Stiles sarcastic tone. It was odd to find humor in a time so dreadful and unsettling but hearing those words and in that tone, it was like a glimmer of normalcy had been offered to him.

When they drew near, the skeletons turned and headed down the hallway, leaving Derek and Stiles no choice but to follow them. On the far end was another obsidian black door, cracked open with ember light spilling through. Low growls echoed down the long passage, growing louder the closer they got.

Stiles gripped his hand and Derek wasn’t at all ashamed to say he did the same. The hallway was decorated with skull lamps, the flames licking inside the skulls, casting eerie shadows of gaping mouths and empty eye sockets on the walls. The walls itself were lined with torturous scenes of hellish depictions. He saw men in Greek armor fallen in battle.

He saw a mother cradling her baby in her arm, hunched over the body as if to protect it.

The hall felt sorrowful, the pain and suffering burning through the air, affecting him with every breath he took.

He bit back his emotions, and relief, tainted with anguish, flooded him when they finally reached the doors. Past the warning rumbling growls, he heard a gentle cooing from within.

The skeletons pointed and then without another word, because they were dead, they turned and left them there.

Stiles’ amber eyes were glowing golden, ember and honey, the colors changing as the flames reflected at him. The warmth that washed over him whenever he seemed to look at Stiles, meet those his eyes in times of trouble returned.

“Let’s go.”

They pushed open the door and stepped in.

A second later, his heart sunk to his stomach and he stumbled to a halt.

Frozen at the sight that greeted him, Stiles’ hand slipped from his as his body turned numb. He exhaled loudly, drew the figure who was cooing and stroking the ugly dog-like beasts. Their glowing red eyes snapped toward Derek and growls passed their fanged mouths.

He would have run if he was focused on those things, but he wasn’t.

All the emotions he had caged up within his chest broke free, wrecking him from within in a disastrous storm of emotions.

His lips parted when wide brown eyes met his.

Her name passed lips in a shocked whispered just as Stiles’ greeted her too.

“Cora.” Derek breathed.

“Persephone.” Stiles said at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a little nerves about this chapter, so i hope you all like it.
> 
> Title of chapter - Banners and Young Bomb - Where the Shadows End.
> 
> Given the ending is revealed. When I found Cora was a name inspired by Kore which is another name for Persephone, I immediately knew I needed to write a Percy Jackson inspired fic and here we are, years later.


	6. Trust The Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone. I hope you all going good and well during this Covid - 19 lock down.
> 
> Here is the next chapter. It was a little difficult writing this, because of the reaction to the truth but I hope I did a good job

That’s not possible.

His eyes, the mist, something mythical must be messing with his perception, affecting his vision… There was no way. No way.

His heads shook in pure belief.

He felt Stiles, more than saw him move forward, stepping closer before he dropped to a bow, sinking to one knee, arm crossed diagonally over his chest, fist lifted and pressed against his shoulder.

Her brown eyes shifted away from him, focusing on Stiles. Her chin lifted, her gaze approving as she lifted her hand and reached for Stiles, palm up. “Rise, Hero of Olympus.”

Stiles picked up his head, and did as told, smoothly, effortless.

Derek didn’t move. His entire body was dosed in numbness, the scene playing before him as if he was an onlooker. He watched as Stiles stepped back, his boots soundless, his body relaxed. Derek’s his gaze moved over to her as if in a daze.

Her soft brown eyes weren’t so soft anymore. They were darker somehow, the fire licking within the skulls that decorated the room illuminating the torture, the pain and the sorrow in her orbs. Years of knowledge swirled in her eyes and Derek pleaded for the glimpse of innocence he’d gotten used to, but he knew, deep within, that he would not find it.

She looked so different, her dark hair was curled in perfect soft ringlets, chocolate and dark against her porcelain skin. Her body was wrapped in a long black dress that reached the floor as made it look like she was floating on thin hair. Wine red lace cut into flowers decorated the deadly dress, some wrapped around her arms, falling off her shoulders. Seeing her in someone other than overall, converse and braids burned away the image of Cora…

His Cora…

His baby sister…

“Derek.” She spoke his name, and when he heard her voice, aimed at him…

It propelled him forward and before he could even consider the possible consequences of his actions, Derek had her wrapped in his arms, hand cupping the back of her head to hold her close. She was still shorter than him, still felt the same in his embrace.

Low growls cut through the air, but Derek didn’t care. He felt their hellish presence, could sense their cautious, their protective instinct toward her, so he knew, as long as he didn’t do anything else, he would be safe.

“Cora.” He breathed in relief and his belief, his mind slowly getting on track with present events.

His eyes burned and Derek closed them, the pools of tears slipping down his cheeks in two waterfalls. He bit back a sob, not wanting to feel or express the emotions storming around within him. His control almost cracked when her felt her arms curl around him, returning his hold.

He heard Stiles mutter, “of course”, causing him to turn around, releasing Cora in the process to meet Stiles’ wide eyes glimmering with lucidity.

“What?” Derek asked stupidly, curling his arm around Cora, drawing her close to him.

Amber eyes bounded between the two, and Derek literally see his mind piecing together an invisible puzzle. “The weather we’ve been experiencing. It was a long summer because you were up in the mortal world instead of the Underworld.”

“Yes.” Cora answered with a smile. “Mother has been very happy to have me safe.”

“Your…” Derek turned to look down at her. “You’re not…”

He knew the myth, or well, he knew the story of [Persephone](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Persephone); how Hades stole her and kept her down in the underworld, and that to save the crops that had been neglect by Demeter as she search for Persephone, the gods bargained with Hades and it was agreed that Persephone would spend half the year with her mother and the other half with Hades. That was the birth of the seasons.

Cora looked up at him, her eyes swirling with sorrow. “I am not your sister, no. My mother decided I should remain with a child of Hecate, the goddess who aided her in her search for me years ago. She knew I would be safe.” She smiled. “And I was.”

Anger burned in him, flashes of that night rushing through his head. “No, you weren’t. You were taken, just like before and—” He turned to her, righteous rage coiling within him. “You’re my sister. Okay, screw blood, I got a dozen brothers and sisters that I never met. Blood means nothing to me. I love you.”

Warm, soft hands cupped his head. “I love you, too, Derek.”

“Good.” Derek stated, moving to grasp of her hands, drawing it away before using it to tug her closer. “Now, c’mon we have to leave.” He turned to Stiles, who was watching the exchange with sympathy and understanding. “Where are the pearls, Stiles? Take them out.”

Nails clicked against the marble floors. Cora’s head snapped to the side, her dark eyes narrowed as she snapped out “ _Stop_ ”, her tongue speaking the Greek language without difficulty, smooth and sharp all the same. The Hell hounds sunk into themselves, their red eyes dropping in obedience as they slowly inched away from them.

“Are they going to attack us?” Stiles asked, eyes moving to Cora.

“No. Hell hounds are rarely violent without good reason.”

Stiles looked ready to ask another question, his amber eyes alight with curiosity, but Derek cut him off with a sharp, _“Stiles.”_

Stiles’ glared at him for a beat before turning to look at Cora and Derek tightened his hold on her hand.

“Derek…” She tugged at his hand.

But he ignored her, feeling he rising panic slowly settling in. With a slowly racing heart, Derek forced out, “Stiles, get the pearls out.”

The son of Athena’s expression smoothed out and he did just that. As he reached into his pocket, Derek’s attention was pulled away by Cora’s sharp tug, causing him to spin around to meet her stubborn stare.

“Don’t say anything.” He said to her, knowing his sister.

“Der…” With glimmering eyes, Cora lifted their hands, bring it close to her. “Derek, you know I can’t leave.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t!” She snapped, and the imagine of his baby sister shattered. Her sharp look, her commanding eyes staring him down and everything in Derek submitted, his blood singing with the aura of power exuding of Cora.

“I had my peace.” She stated to him, her words forcing itself on him. “I found joy and comfort and love with you and your father. I escaped for a short while, but my time is up. My responsibilities have caught up to me. I cannot return. Hades only allowed you to enter to see me so that we could say goodbye.”

The words felt like a punch to his stomach. “Good-bye?” The word tasted acidic, burning his insides and throats as it was uttered.

“For now.” She reassured him confidently. “My husband may not be the best, but he has his moments. I am grateful for my time with you, Derek. You will always be my brother. You will always hold a special place in my heart, simply because you loved me and cared for me without asking for anything in return.” A single tears slipped down her cheek.

“I can’t…” Derek shook, his heart breaking at the idea of having to leave her. “I can’t go back without you.”

“Yes, you can. You’re my big brother, you can do anything, remember.” She smiled at him, secretively.

A wet laugh spilled from his lips, remember the night he promised to look out for her and that nothing would happen to her. She’d ask how he could be sure, and he’d responded with the cliche ‘I’m the big brother, I can do anything’. Thinking back on it now it was stupid, given he was nothing more than a demi-god and she was a trillion years old Greek goddess.

“I’ll be okay down here. Just like you will be okay up there.” She looked over his shoulder. “You have people up there that care about you.”

Derek turned, following her eyes to where Stiles took, tall and solid, with his arms crossed in front of him. He saw the outline of the pearls in his enclosed fist, waiting for Derek. His lifted his eyes and met those collected orbs.

“We’ve haven’t gotten to that point yet.” Stiles commented with a comical shake of the head.

Cora smirked. “Oh, so you would travel to the underworld for any demi-titan?”

Stiles clenched his jaw and Derek could sense effort it took for Stiles not to glare in that very moment. His lips curled into a small grin at Cora’s teasing.

“He’s one of us.” Stiles stated.

“Of course.” She winked and turned to Derek, her smirk growing. “You will find that denial is a trait shared by children of Athena.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He nodded, his smile slipping but the lightness remained there. He sighed. “I hate the idea of leaving you here.”

“I know. But we all have a role to play.” She smiled sweetly. “Besides, Nico should have given you three pearls, therefore, there should an extra one. For whenever you miss me too much.”

In a blink, she was in his arms once again. And this time, he didn’t hold back. He held her body close to his, promising to do everything to ensure he never lost touch with her. She was a goddess, he knew that. Knew that in her life, he was nothing but a grain of rice, but she was his baby sister, and that would never change.

“I love you.” He whispered brokenly into her shoulder.

He felt her turn her head into his neck. “I love you too. Thank for you coming to find me.”

“Always.” He vowed, praying she understood.

Her arms tightened around him.

Derek never wanted to let go, a part him screaming at him to just grab her, hold her as he stepped on the pearl and take her away, but then he would be no better than Hades. He inhaled the spring floral scent of her skin, ingraining it in his memory so that he could never forget. He cataloged everything about her, forcing it into his memory.

With a sniff, Cora loosened her hold on him and stepped away and out of Derek’s embrace. “Take care.” Her words and voice were smooth, spoken with such control.

She tipped her chin up and looked at him with encouraging eyes, her lips spread into a small soft smile.

It took great difficulty to find the strength to do the same. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, a promise that he would be all right.

Footsteps echoed through the room. Derek turned just as Stiles stepped closer to him, enclosed fist reaching out. Derek opened a palm, and the pearl dropped into it, heavier than anything he’d ever held. Stiles turned to stand beside him, both of them facing Cora.

She moved away, her dark dress floundering around her like inky silk. Growls rippled through the air and two Hell hounds came to her side, coming to claim their place. Their red eyes were deadly, their burning gazes like lava, the heat overbearing and promising pain should he misstep.

Stiles nodded. “It was a pleasure a please meeting you.”

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Son of Athena.” Cora said ominously.

Derek shared a glance with Stiles. He looked away and swallowing, deciding not to think too much of it. In fact, he didn’t really care. His eyes drifted over to his sister, and his heart cracked further, each break more painful and lasting than the last. Everything in his screaming at him to not do this, to not turn his back on his sister and leave her here.

Stiles leaned down and placed the pearl on the floor.

Derek felt eyes on him and he did the same numbly.

This was wrong. He knew it.

“Remember to think of Camp Half-Blood.” Stiles advised him, his words of wisdom falling deaf ears. “Derek.”

Cora’s eyes filled with sorrowful tears. “It’s okay, I promise.” She looked at them for a second and then her eyes slid to Stiles. “Stiles…”

He didn’t know what they were saying but he felt the hand that curled around his, felt the fingers that gripped on him. His insides were on fire, and shadows danced across the room that was his sister’s prison.

“Derek.” The hand gripping his tightened and Stiles’ urgent voice drew Derek’s attention away from Cora. Amber eyes met his, cool and definite. They glowed in the light of the room, the flames surrounding the room warming them, and Derek latched onto that bit of warm to push away the numbness that clung him.

“We will step on three, alright?”

He nodded.

“One.”

He looked away, eyes seeking Cora out. His heart sighed with relief when he caught sight of her.

“Two.”

She smiled and lifted a hand, a single tear slithering down her cheek.

“Three.”

He moved and stepped.

His mind flashed to the last place he felt safe, where he knew he would be taken care of, where he could cry and hide all he want without having to hide. Images of comfort, smiling faces and eyes like his danced through his head.

Cool air wrapped around his body, wet at the touch. Goosebumps erupted down his arms and when he inhaled, he smelt the fresh cut grass of the strawberry field, he heard the gentle lapping of the water by the canoe lake. The fire inside him soothed as the smoke claimed his body.

She was fading, her smile becoming hard to discern. She was small again, her face soft and joyous. She was in her overalls again, her feet bare like it always was when she demanded Derek take her to the park.

Stiles’ hand gripped his.

Derek blinked and then…

Silence.

*

“Derek!”

“Stiles!”

“Mr Hale! Mr Stilinski!”

“Dude, we were so worried about you!”

“What was it like?”

He was bombarded by thousands of voices. All of them thunderous as they replaced the silence that had been temporarily bestowed upon him.

Derek’s eyes flashed opened. The hand holding his slipped away. He saw a flash of purple in time to catch the body jumped into his arms. His eyes picked up the familiar grounds of Camp Half-Blood, from the different cabins, the swaying tress that seemed to wave at him in greeting. He saw the millions of faces that surrounded him, the smiling faces, the annoyance eyes, the indifferent expressions.

The body hugging let go and he saw it was Ember who was urged away by a sad looking Aaron who touched his arm gentle. Derek looked around him, and his broken heart sunk into the depths of his soul when he caught Chiron’s disapproving eyes.

“Gentleman.” He greeted them.

Derek looked over when he felt Stiles step up beside him. The Son of Athena meet Chiron’s gaze without flinching while Derek seemed unable to do much of anything other than look at Chiron’s long legs, the way they shifted as if restless.

“Let’s go to the Big House. Ms Martin is there already.” Chiron turned and trotted away.

A hand pushed him, and Derek followed the Centaur, deaf to the whispers that followed them and the concerned eyes that tracked their retreating forms. The walk seemed hours when really it was only a few minutes. Derek’s mind felt cloudy, his emotions secondary, like he himself wasn’t experiencing it.

Cora’s bright eyes swimming in tears flashed through his mind like an endless reel. He felt the ghost of her in his arms, heard the echo of her voice in his ears. He wanted to leave, he wanted to go back home.

He’d come to this place in the hopes of finding Cora, and now that he did, now that he knew everything, being here seemed pointless.

“Hey.” Derek turned and looked at Stiles. “You’re projecting.”

Derek frowned.

“I think I can hear Cora’s voice in my head, and I know it’s your memories seeping in through your manipulation of the mist.” Stiles stated. “Just… I know it hurts but this will be over soon. Just hang in until then, okay?”

For some reason, that was reassuring.

When they entered the Big House, Lydia was there. She gasped when she saw them and was out of her seat in second, rushing over to Stiles and Derek, her arms wrapping around their necks to draw them into her group embrace.

“Gods, I am so happy you two are safe. I have been so worried sick.” She tightened her hold on them. “Don’t worry, Derek. Everything will work out.”

There was a pointed clearing of the throat. “Ms Martin.”

She drew away and turned with a sheepish yet unbothered look on her face. When she walked back to her seat, Derek and Stiles trailed after her. Mr D was there, sipping on his water with a disgruntled expression on his face.

They took a seat, eyes following Chiron as he moved to the other side of the table, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Would you two like to explain yourself?” He asked, his eyes sharp yet gentle. They told them to be honest and that he would listen to them and try to understand.

Derek looked down at his folded hands. He swallowed and found his throat had closed up by a thick lump.

Stiles cleared his throat. “Chiron, Derek didn’t force us to go with him. And there was a little girl down in the Underworld and we couldn’t just sit by.”

Mr D snorted. “Yes, but it wasn’t just any little girl, was it, Steve? No, you three heroes were going down into the Underworld to save Persephone.” He said “heroes” in a mocking tone and that burning flame within him was rekindled.

Derek clenched his jaw.

“We didn’t know –” Lydia tried to defend but Dionysus cut her off.

“Yes, you heroes never do. You simply act. Had you done as you were told, you would have found out who Ms Cora really was and saved us all the trouble. Now, we are on the ugly side of the stick with the gods. Zeus was seconds away from striking us down.”

“Now, don’t exaggerate Dionysus.”

Derek looked up with a heated glare and met Chiron’s imploring gaze.

“Derek? Would you like to add anything?”

Derek swallowed down his anger and pain and forced out, “I did what I had to do to protect my sister, Greek goddess or not. I would have died had Lydia and Stiles not come with me and if you’re gonna punish anyone, or kick anyone out, then it should be me. Not them. They did nothing wrong, save for trying to help someone in a helpless situation.”

Dionysus huffed. “Kick out? Damon, we don’t kick anyone out here. That would make life much easier.”

Derek’s eyes widened a touch. “You- You’re not going to kick them out?”

He looked over to see Lydia and Stiles giving him matching looks of appreciation. Lydia had small somber smile on her lips, and Stiles’ expression was less controlled, softened a bit around the edges.

Chiron let loose a soft chuckle. “No, Derek. We won’t be kicking anyone out of the camp. Camp Half-Blood is a sanctuary, and it will always be.” His kind expression shifted into a serious one. “However, you three will be disciplined for leaving the campgrounds, for participating in an unsanctioned mission, for defying orders, do you know three understand?”

They nodded their heads.

“Now, I understand your situations. I understand why you acted the way you did.” Chiron looked at them all, their tense shoulders sinking under his comforting gaze. “Which is why I will give you the time you need, Derek. We can call your father, or have you dropped off if need be - ?”

“No.” Derek cut him off, the word spilling out instinctively. He shook his head, “No, I –” He swallowed thickly and shook his head firmly again. “I don’t want to go home. Not… Not now, at least.”

“Very well.” Chiron smiled at him. “We will discuss your punishment later, as for now, you three are free to return to your cabins. Rest, recuperate and then tomorrow, we will talk again.”

“Thank you, Chiron.” Stiles and Lydia said in variations.

He felt himself stand up, vaguely aware that his feet were carrying him out the Big House. The second they stepped out, they saw Lou Ellen and Aaron who were waiting outside. They pushed off the wall and hurried over to them.

Stiles and Lydia stepped aside when they crowed in, and Derek welcomed Lou Ellen’s hug. She held him in her arms and for a short second, he just wanted to sink in and vanish for a while.

“You’re gonna be okay, Derek.” She said to him, her voice so sure and confident that Derek almost believed her, but knew it wasn’t true.

He nodded, nonetheless.

A hand grasped his shoulder just as Lou Ellen pulled away and Derek turned to see Aaron given him a firm “you got this” nod. Lou Ellen stood before him, looking up with wide green-grey eyes filled with concern and worry.

“What do you say we get back to the cabin and you can try and sleep?” She asked, her big eyes alluring and promising the rest he knew he wouldn’t get.

He nodded.

Lou Ellen turned to Stiles and Lydia. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Of course.” Lydia’s sweet voice reached his ears but Derek couldn’t will his neck to move to look at her. He was just tired.

Everything around him was hazy, distorted and clear all the same. He knew what was happening around him, but he couldn’t piece everything together.

Aaron wrapped an arm around his neck and Lou Ellen claimed his left side, and together they guided him away from Stiles and Lydia. Derek wanted to look at them, he wanted to see their faces and thank them for all they had done but his body refused to comply.

Before he knew it, he was being lowered onto his bed. He heard the shuffling of the other kids, heard Ember’s voice asking if he was okay, and Aaron gently telling him that Derek was fine and that he should get back to bed.

Someone lowered themselves down by the side of the bed and he tipped his head to meet Lou Ellen’s eyes. She was crouched by the head of the bed, her face in his eye line. “Hey, we got a daughter of [Hypnos](https://riordan.fandom.com/wiki/Hypnos) with us, and she can calm your mind for a bit? Would you want that?”

Derek’s thoughts drifted to Cora, to the pain and hollow-out shape she’d left in his… everything. His fear at the idea of her being down there burned through him, licking at his wounds like hell fire. He wanted to feel that pain, he didn’t know why, but he knew… he knew if what he was feeling was taken away, it would be like he didn’t care that she was gone.

He shook his head weakly.

Lou Ellen’s face tightened, her displeasure clear but she nodded, giving him a smile. She ran her fingers through his hair, “Okay, try and close your eyes and Aaron and I will keep watch.”

He closed his eyes, the lids heavy, with every blink an effort.

He fell into the darkness with the echoing sound of Cora’s voice whispering good-bye, her smile and her bright eyes the last thing he can remember before he was swallowed up by the abyss.


	7. Love is Like A Torch (Carry It On)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! I don't know why but this fic was not the best to write. I had the motivation which came and went. With Lock down, I was able to finish it and I am happy that it is finally done.
> 
> Thank you everyone who read, commented and left a kudos. It means the world to me.

Derek stared out before him, tracing the way the water of the lake swayed, shifting from the small waves that coursed through it, ending in a thin line of foam. The wind had a chill to it, but Derek didn’t care. Since waking up, this wind was the first thing his body really registered.

He’d woken up feeling the same, but his mind was more present than the night before. Lou Ellen had brought him his breakfast and Ember had sat with him and spoke about what Derek had missed and Derek welcomed the small moment of normalcy.

Apparently, Malia had put two campers in the infirmary, which was normal, but it had been two sons of Aphrodite who’d made a snide comment that Ember said no one would tell to him. Boyd had designed a new form of shield that could be worn as a bronze bracelet, so you were always protected. Erica had taken over teaching him archery and the Hunters of Artemis were said to be coming for a small visit, though he wasn’t sure if that was just rumor.

Derek had asked what the Hunter of Artemis were and Ember when into a rant about the greatest female hunters out that that was led by a daughter of Zeus who had been a tree but was made back into a human when Percy and Annabeth had brought back the Golden Fleece on one of their “not supposed to” missions. Ember then explained in a secretive tone that one of the Huntresses Allison used to at the camp and that she’d dated Scott McCall but in the end she decided to join the group when afforded the opportunity, which Derek found adorable given no one else was around.

“Her family fought with Luke during the Battle in New York and so all the people were being really mean to her.” Ember confided in a sad tone.

Derek had asked him about Boyd’s shield, hating the discontent expression that darkened Ember’s face, and soon the sadness in his voice was gone.

When Derek was done eating, Ember walked him to the infirmary to get his body checked out before was urged by the children of Apollo to get to training, which he did with clear reluctance, going so far as to drag his feet.

The visit wasn’t long, he answered Scott’s questions honestly, and when his scar was examined, Derek told him what Nico said about the Underworld leaving it’s mark when it touches a child of the Underworld, so really, the scar would remain no matter what, but Scott did give him a cream to apply in case the scar could still get infected.

Derek knew it wouldn’t, but he took the cream anyway.

When that was done, Derek had no where else to go, and so he wondered away from the campgrounds and found himself here, by the lake.

He lost himself in the sounds around him, so much so that he didn’t pick up the kicking of sand, the ruffling of a jacket until a shadow fell over him.

Derek looked up and his heart tightened.

“Hey.” Stiles' amber eyes stared down him.

“Hi.”

“Mind if I sit?”

Derek shook his head. Stiles lowered himself down, crossing his legs.

“How are you feeling today?”

Derek picked up a hand full of sand and allowed the grains to slip through his fingers as he took his time to answer. “I’m doing better. Still…” He trailed off, looking at Stiles meaningfully.

Stiles nodded, his lips softening and curling into an understanding smile. However, his smile faded a second later and the worrying knot in his stomach tightened.

Derek swallowed thickly. “What?”

Stiles looked away and Derek watched as his hand disappeared into the pocket of his jacket. It come out, with squared paper held between fingers. Stiles wordlessly handed it over, “This came for Chiron this morning. It’s for you.”

With a frown, took the piece of paper. When his eyes caught the delicate inscription of his name “ _DER_ ”, his heart sunk, knowing instantly who it was.

The paper shook as he held it. He felt Stiles shift beside him, his body rising, and Derek’s hand snapped out, grabbing onto his forearm. Stiles stopped.

“Can you—”

Stiles’ sure nod cut off any other words and Derek couldn’t hide the fraction of relief that flooded him when Stiles sat back down. Derek removed his hand and returned his attention back to the piece of paper, a letter he knew.

With a shaky breath, Derek unfolded the paper. Every crinkle, every sound louder than he knew it really was.

The paper was pressed and clear, yellowed as if ancient and Derek’s eyes drank in the words.

_Der,_

_I wished we’d had more time together, more time to learn the new us. I have always known you were something special. Not because of your parentage but because of how you loved and cared for me._

_You held me when I had nightmares, chased away all that I feared, took me away from all who wished me harm. No one had every cared for me as you had. In the centuries I have been Persephone, I never felt so protected and cared for as I was as Cora._

_I know you must miss me. I know you blame yourself for leaving me behind, but I want you to know, my choices are my own. And no matter the time and distance that separates us, my time with you and Lincoln have changed me and I will hold onto those memories for as long as I live._

_Time is endless, but we have it. I would love to hear from you, and hopefully you will use the pearl soon. I want to know everything, from your time at Camp Half, to your time with your siblings. Hopefully, by the time you visit you will have crossed the river of Denial with that stubborn son of Athena._

_I love you, dearly._

_Your sister, Cora._

Derek felt tear slither around the smile on his lips. He wiped it away, unashamed. A small laugh bubbled free, slipping out wetly.

He traced the words, and the ball of pain and fear sunk just a bit. It was still there, but… hearing from her, knowing she was okay meant everything to him.

“Is she doing okay?”

Derek jumped a bit, and hastily folded the letter, ears heated, and cheeks flushed, remembering the part of Denial which he was not going to be dealing with that right now. He slipped the letter into one of the pockets of his cargo pants, clipping it close.

“Yeah… Say’s she is looking forward to spending time with me.” His lips spread into a small smile.

Stiles nodded, his features smoothing out as his lips press together and tick up into a lop-sided smile. “Well, I don’t know Persephone that well, but Nico always said she was kind to him.” Upon noticing Derek’s confusion frown, he continued, “Uh, so because Nico is Hades’ son, that would make Persephone his step-mother.”

“Oh gods.” He groaned out at the image that was forced into his head.

Stiles laughed. “You might as well get used to it. With Greek history, you are connected to a lot of people in a lot of ways. Annabeth’s mother is Percy’s father’s niece.” He added unhelpfully.

“It’s like I’m in an episode of _Game of Thrones_.”

Stiles smirked. “It’s not so bad, geez. But, word of advice, don’t think too much about your familial connection with the other campers outside of your cabin. We don’t consider it a factor really.”

“Clearly.” He shot back, shaking his head in wonder because… how was this his life? He looked out in front of him, at the clear sky that reflected on the glistening lake, sparkles dancing cross the surface.

He thought of what Stiles said back at Nico’s house, how cruel the gods were and how every demigod has their own struggles. He recalled Stiles’ story, his own history with his mother and father. It wasn’t the same thing, not by a long shot, but somehow knowing that his pain was understood in some degree, made it feel less like a crushing burden, one he was meant to carry along and hide from the world.

“Hey.” Derek turned to see Stiles’ head tipped to the side. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Derek thought for a beat before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”

The corner of pink lips tugged up. “Wanna come with me and train?”

Derek smiled, “Yeah.”

They stood up, brushed off the sand on their clothes. With every step he took, he found his steps lighter, his heart beating easier. He looked at the back of Stiles’ head, thinking back on Cora’s message, wondering if it was true. He didn’t think he would deal with it now if it was true.

When they entered the training arena, Stiles headed for the amour and slipped it on, selecting a deadly looking sword. Derek fumbled around a big, trying to mimic what he’d seen Stiles do and after a few failed attempts, with Stiles standing there smirking, he had his armor strapped to his chest. He tried out a few swords, picking the one that felt more comfortable in his hand and then followed after Stiles who found them a place.

Some eyes followed them. Some nodded. Some greeted him and Derek did the same. He knew they heard about his mission, knew that his sister was Persephone. Like Stiles had said, Demigods loved to gossip. It was both stressful and relieving, knowing he didn’t have to hide these past three days from them, but it made him feel open, and bare; the idea that everyone knew about something Derek was still coming to terms with.

Stiles spun and faced him, eyes alight with challenge. “You know how to hold a sword?” He asked.

Derek looked down at the sword in his hand. He looked up and shrugged, “I guess. It can’t be—”

A sword swung down, and Derek felt his arm in time to stop the attack, the singing sound of metal on metal ringing through the ear, his arm tingling as the force ran through it. He stumped back, finding his footing a moment later.

Wide eyed, he looked at Stiles who simply lifted an eyebrow and continued to smirk obnoxiously. “You were saying?”

Derek glared at him, but even he knew there was no heat behind it. He shook his arm and assumed the previous position, body sideways, arms raised. He felt his mind pick up information about Stiles’ body, the way his feet are planted. There was an alertness within him, as if everything was heightened.

“You’re feeling vigilant, aren’t you?” Stiles asked, moving easily backwards.

Derek nodded, watching as they circled each other.

“Demi-gods have an innate capability. They have the ability, a natural ability, to adapt to dangerous situations. It’s almost as if your brain is hardwired for fighting, which I am sure you know.” Stiles twirled the sword in his hand, coming to halt.

“Like with those furies?” He asked.

A murmur ran through the gathering demi-gods, and Derek bit back the urge to look around him, having momentarily forgotten that they weren’t alone anymore.

“Exactly.” Stiles smirk, “Ready?”

Derek ran his eyes over Stiles, nodding.

His senses heightened, the world around him becoming his central focus, every step and every shift of his body picked up. A blink later, Derek had his arm up, blocking an incoming attack. He pushed Stiles’ sword back, and duck when Stiles swung a fist his way. He moved to attack, aiming for Stiles arm but Stiles instinctively blocked the strike by bring the sword behind his back and swept it up, bending and nailing Derek in the gut with a sharp, precise kick. Derek gasped, his stomach clenching and his lung constricting from the force. A round of cheers went around, claps and jeers, and Stiles’ smirk widened.

“C’mon, Hale.”

A rush coursed through him, and with Stiles’ taunt, Derek inhaled and straightened up. He felt a power surge through him, running thick and hot through his veins. He looked up at Stiles, his lips lifting to mirror the smirk that greeted him, and a dangerous glint ignited in Stiles’ cool and collected orbs. Derek released a throaty scream as he charged and swiped, Stiles bend back as the blade grazed over his body. He moved to strike Derek’s stomach, but Derek jumped back, hitting back with his own attacked.

They danced around each other then, and Derek did as Stiles had been telling to do. He gave in into his instincts. Their smirks slipped and returned effortlessly. He had seen Stiles fight before, but he had never had the chance to fight him before and it was an awesome experience.

He moved through his space like a snake, twisting and striking with a graceful viciousness and Derek gave as good as he got. He got nicked more than Stiles and his cheek throbbing from where Stiles had sliced it with a sudden strike that Derek hadn’t been known was coming.

“Finish him, Stiles!” A female voice called out.

Stiles eyes flashed and Derek a moment to gathering himself before he was assaulted with unexpected strikes, stumbling and ducking as best be could, but it was pointless. A twist to his wrist, his sword was out his hand, and with a spin, Stiles had him in a sword cage.

Derek froze, eyes wide and he stared as Stiles face’s inches from his. His own sword was pressed against his side, and any move he made would sure get him another lovely cut, while Stiles sword was a breath from his neck, the blade scraping against his throat whenever he swallowed.

Stiles looked at him, satisfaction and pride gleaming in his eyes.

Derek’s heart tripped over itself.

“Well done. You held out longer than expected.” His words were spoken softly.

Before Derek could react, or response, the space between them was opened up, the air rushing into his lungs when Stiles stepped away, taking the swords with him. Cheers broke out, and Stiles was surrounded by his friends, the girl, Malia, laughed as she high-fived Stiles.

Hands clapped Derek on the back and he watched, shocked as other campers came to him, congratulating him on his skill and how long he held with Stiles. Lydia was there too, beaming at him as she commented on how he had ‘improved’. Scott pushed through the campers and told him he looked so bad ass while fussing over his wounds.

An arm wrapped around his neck. “Nice job. Hale.”

He turned and met Malia’s dark and wild eyes. “Thanks.”

“Me and you, next time. I’ve been training with Stiles since forever and now I can finally switch things up a bit.”

“He isn’t a toy, Lia.” Scott complained.

Malia looked at him and grinned wolfishly. “If you’d just take me up on my offer, then I wouldn’t have to look for entertainment elsewhere.”

Scott’s entire face flushed and he looked away, stuttering about bandaging Derek up as soon as possible. Derek’s looked between to the two, suddenly uncomfortable at behind the between this, while Lydia rolled her eyes to the sky and shook her head.

“C’mon, Derek.” Scott grabbed his arm and steered him away and Derek happily went along with him, limping slightly because Stiles got gotten his right leg too. More hands clapped him on the shoulder and with every compliment and smile, he felt a strange sensation, he hadn’t recognized at first but now… now he knew what it was.

He looked over his shoulder to see Stiles shrugging with an aura of coolness at something Twins boys with Ares tattooed on their arms, were saying to him. As if sensing his eyes, Stiles’ gaze flickered over to him and the smirk he’d been wearing softening into a smile.

Stiles winked and Derek spun his head around, looked ahead of him, while his face felt like it had been dosed with fire.

“Denial…” He thought himself. “Yeah, right…”

_Bring on your forces of nature_

_Bring on the storm that’s raging_

_And if you get lost in the shadows_

_There’s a fire inside you_

_Be the light that guides you_

_Come on, carry your flames,_

_Carry it higher_

_Leave it in the darkness_

_Carry your torches_

_Come on, carry your flames,_

_Set the night on fire_

_Leave it in the darkness_

_Carry your torches._

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of story was from Torches by Daughtry 
> 
> And the title of the fic was from Torches - X Ambassadors
> 
> As you can see, there was a clear theme, lol.
> 
> Keep safe everyone and I wish you all continued strength. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Next: Derek meets some interesting people.
> 
> \- For those who don't know Percy Jackson that well, feel free to ask questions. I will try to put as much information in but, the story is from a perspective of someone that knows nothing, so a lot of information will be implied and hinted at but not explicitly spoken about because it's not relevant.
> 
> The tags will be updated, and additional information will be provided on the characters as the chapters process, but I don't want to put everything out there because it will spoil the plot and story.
> 
> Feedback is appreciated <3


End file.
